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BOOKS   BY 

"  C&arlea  e^ert  Cralrtorit." 

(MARY  N.  MURFREE.) 


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HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY, 

BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK. 


HIS  VANISHED  STAR 


BY 


CHARLES   EGBERT   CRADDOCK 


BOSTON    AND    NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 
rc0?,  Cambribge 

1894 


LIBRARY 

IJXIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright,  1894, 
BY  MARY  N.  MURFREE. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  and  Company. 


HIS  VANISHED  STAR. 


I. 

IT  was  a  great  property,  reckoned  by  metes  and 
bounds.  A  day's  journey  might  hardly  suffice  to 
traverse  the  whole  of  his  domain.  Yet  there  was 
no  commensurate  money  value  attaching  to  these 
leagues  of  mountain  wilderness,  that  bore  indeed 
a  merely  nominal  price,  and  Kenneth  Kenniston's 
was  hardly  the  temperament  to  experience  an 
aesthetic  gratulation  that  his  were  those  majestic 
domes  which  touched  the  clouds  and  withstood  the 
lightnings  and  lifted  up  an  awesome  voice  to  .an 
swer  the  thunder,  or  that  his  title-deeds  called  for 
all  the  vast  slopes  thence  down  to  the  unimagined 
abysses  of  the  abandoned  mine  in  the  depths  of 
the  gorge.  It  was  the  spirit  of  speculation  that 
informed  his  glance  with  a  certain  respect  for 
them,  as  he  turned  his  eye  upon  the  mountains, 
and  bethought  himself  how  these  austere  craggy 
splendors  were  calculated  to  impress  the  shallow 
gaze  of  the  wandering  human  swallow.  He  even 
appraised,  in  the  interest  of  possible  summer  so- 
journers,  the  rare,  pure,  soft  air  with  which  his 


2  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

lungs  expanded.  Science  was  presently  set  a-pry- 
ing  about  the  margins  of  rocky  springs,  hitherto 
undiscovered  and  unnoticed  save  by  oread  or  deer ; 
a  few  blasts  of  dynamite,  a  great  outgushing  of 
exhaustless  mineral  waters,  a  triumphant  chemical 
analysis  ensued,  and  an  infusion  of  enthusiasm 
began  to  pervade  his  consciousness.  Such  re 
sources  —  infinitely  smaller  resources  —  elsewhere 
in  the  world  meant  a  fortune  ;  why  not  here  ? 

He  was  an  architect  by  profession,  and  the  as 
pect  of  the  world  seemed  to  him  parceled  out  in 
available  sites.  It  cost  his  imagination,  trained  by 
study  and  enriched  by  travel,  no  conscious  effort  to 
perceive  standing  in  fair  proportions,  turreted  and 
terraced,  finished  to  the  last  finial,  the  perfected 
structure  of  his  projected  summer  hotel,  on  that 
level  space  above  craggy  heights,  facing  the  moon 
and  the  valley,  with  the  background  of  still  greater 
heights,  ever  rising,  heavily  wooded,  to  the  peak 
towering  above.  He  saw  it,  as  a  true  architect,  in 
completion ;  as  the  wren  sees  his  builded  nest,  not 
as  the  single  straw  or  wisp  of  hair.  Yet  the  day 
of  small  things  must  needs  be  overpassed,  —  of 
straws  and  wisps,  —  of  struts  and  purlins,  plates  and 
tie-beams.  His  day  of  small  things  was  full  of 
wrangling  and  bitter  bafflings,  heart-burnings  and 
discouragements.  His  partners  in  the  undertaking 
had  not  been  induced  to  cast  their  lot  with  his  save 
by  the  exercise  of  infinite  suavities  of  crafty  elo 
quence,  overpowering  doubt  and  fear,  and  indispu 
table  demonstrations  of  disproportionate  profits  in 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  3 

the  very  air.  One  was  a  seer  in  a  commercial  sort, 
an  adept  in  prognosticating  unexpected  expenses 
for  which  no  covenant  of  provision  had  been  en 
tered  into,  and  he  beheld  full-armed  disaster  men 
acing  every  plan  save  that  of  his  own  preference. 
The  other  had  no  imagination  whatever,  architectu 
ral  or  otherwise.  He  recognized  no  needs  which 
required  adornment,  and  measured  the  taste  of  the 
public  by  his  own  disposition  to  spend  money  to 
gratify  it.  That  Kenniston's  plans  should  have 
come  through  the  ordeal  of  their  councils,  with  the 
ever  lopping-off  incidents  common  to  the  moneyed 
non-professional,  retaining  any  element  of  sym 
metry  or  grace  or  beauty  argued  much  for  their 
pristine  value.  He  regarded  them  for  a  time  with 
a  sort  of  pity  and  affronted  tenderness  for  their 
maimed  estate,  but  little  by  little  the  original  in 
tentions  faded  from  his  mental  view,  and  he  could 
see  with  renewed  satisfaction  the  flag  flying  from 
the  tower  without  remembering  that  he  had  held 
this  octagonal  gaud  upon  the  building  by  main 
force,  as  it  were,  against  the  iconoclastic  grasp  of 
the  practical  men. 

Nevertheless  he  was  relieved  to  be  free  from  their 
presence.  He  felt  that  it  was  well  that  their  legiti 
mate  business  —  one  as  a  stock-broker,  the  other  a 
real-estate  agent  —  held  them  to  their  desks  in  the 
city  of  Breton ville.  The  manifest  purpose  of  their 
creation,  he  thought,  was  fully  served  in  their  fur 
nishing  forth  their  quota  of  the  sinews  of  war.  He 
was  much  younger  than  either,  but  he  had  learned 


4  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

something  beyond  their  knowledge  in  this  interne 
cine  strife,  and  when  it  became  necessary  to  provide 
for  them  occupation,  to  prevent  further  interference 
in  the  venture  which  had  come  to  be  of  most  hope 
ful  interest  to  both,  he  wrote  to  them  touching  the 
finding  of  a  suitable  man  to  keep  the  hotel  when  built, 
certain  that  in  this  quest  for  a  Boniface  he  had  set 
them  by  the  ears,  and  relying  on  their  different 
temperaments  to  keep  them  wrangling  together  and 
to  leave  him  in  peace. 

Every  sylvan  detail  of  the  scene  pleased  his  artis 
tic  and  receptive  sense,  as  he  stood  on  the  great 
natural  terrace,  the  site  of  the  future  building,  and 
surveyed  the  landscape.  It  was  a  phenomenally 
felicitous  opportunity.  This  plateau  projected  from 
a  lateral  spur  of  the  Great  Smoky  chain,  and  faced 
the  southeast.  Thus  the  main  body  of  the  moun 
tain  range,  diagonally  across  the  Cove,  seemed 
strangely  near  at  hand  ;  one  could  study  its  chasms 
and  abysses,  its  jungles  of  laurel  and  vast  forests, 
as  it  were  from  mid-air ;  it  was  the  point  of  view  of 
a  bird.  Through  a  gap  lower  down,  the  parallel 
lines  of  the  eastern  ranges  became  visible,  elsewhere 
hidden  by  the  great  boundary  ridge,  —  a  wonderful 
fantasy  painted  in  every  gradation  of  blue,  from 
the  slaty  grayish  hue  near  at  hand  under  the 
shadow  of  a  cloud,  the  velvet-like  tones  of  ultrama 
rine  beyond,  and  still  further  the  metallic  hardness 
of  tint  as  of  lapis  lazuli,  till  the  most  delicate  azure 
outline  of  peaks  faintly  obliterated  its  identity 
against  the  azure  eastern  sky.  All  unflushed  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  5 

sky  was  here,  although  to  the  right  the  clouds  were 
red  above  the  western  mountains.  They  closely 
hemmed  in  the  Cove,  heavy,  massive,  purple  and 
bronze  and  deeply  green,  in  such  limited  latitude  of 
color  as  their  lowering  shadows  would  permit.  Far 
down  their  slopes  the  river  ran,  threading  the  deep 
forests  with  elusive  steely  glimmers.  He  could  not 
hear  its  voice,  but  from  great  cliffs  hard  by  the 
silvery  melody  of  the  mineral  springs  beat  upon 
the  air  with  a  rhythm  inexpressibly  sweet  and  wild 
and  alluring.  So  definite  it  was  that  it  seemed 
odd  that  one  did  not  "  catch  the  tune."  In  an 
open  space  some  scattered  sheep  were  feeding,  —  the 
effect  pastoral  and  pictorial.  The  whole  scene, 
with  its  blended  solemnity  and  beauty  and  dignity, 
would  well  accord  with  the  castellated  edifice  his 
fancy  had  set  in  its  midst.  It  might  indeed  be  a 
mediaBval  world  upon  which  the  windows  should 
look,  instead  of  the  prosaic  nineteenth  century,  so 
far  it  would  appear  from  sordid  to-day,  so  well 
would  the  fashion  of  the  building  aid  the  illusion, 
were  it  not  for  a  section  of  the  foreground  imme 
diately  below  the  cliffs  of  the  terrace,  where  there 
stood,  bare  and  open  and  unsheltered,  a  primitive 
log  cabin,  a  stretch  of  cornfields,  a  horse-lot,  a 
pig-pen,  and  all  the  accessories  of  most  modern 
and  unimpressive  American  poverty  and  ignorance. 
Being  near,  and  bearing  human  significance,  the 
prosaic  little  home  seemed  the  most  salient  point, 
in  its  incongruity,  in  the  whole  magnificent  land 
scape.  The  methods  of  the  mountaineer  furthered, 


6  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

too,  the  effect  of  antagonism.  Along  the  side  of 
one  of  the  ranges  near  at  hand,  a  great  gaunt 
blackened  area  bore  token  of  a  "  fire-scald."  Ken- 
niston's  eyes  rested  frowningly  on  this  deep  burnt 
scar  upon  the  face  of  nature.  It  came  from  the 
pernicious  habit  of  "  setting  out  fire  in  the  woods  " 
in  the  autumn,  to  burn  away  the  undergrowth  and 
dead  leaves,  in  order  to  give  freer  pasturage  to 
wandering  cattle.  Here,  as  is  not  unfrequently  the 
case,  the  fire,  instead  of  merely  consuming  leaves, 
twigs,  and  shoots,  had  gathered  strength  and  fury, 
burning  the  giant  trees  to  great  blackened,  dead 
ened  skeletons,  bleakly  standing,  and  had  devas 
tated  some  hundred  acres.  He  could  see  in  the 
sparse  shadows  the  cattle  feeding  on  the  lush  herb 
age,  and  he  ground  his  teeth  to  reflect  upon  the 
alarm  any  future  conflagration  would  spread  among 
the  autumnal  lingerers  of  summer  sojourners  and 
the  catastrophe  that  might  ensue  to  the  chateau  on 
the  rocks. 

"  We  must  buy  him  out,"  he  muttered.  "  He 
must  be  made  to  go." 

Kenniston's  heart  was  as  heavy  with  presage  as 
if  his  flimsy  chateau  stood  on  the  cliffs  behind  him ; 
for  it  was  not  to  be  mediaeval  in  point  of  strength 
of  materials. 

The  project  of  buying  out  Luther  Terns  seemed 
hardly  so  feasible  as  when  first  presented  to  the 
minds  of  the  company.  The  proposition  to  this 
effect  had  already  been  made  to  the  astounded 
mountaineer,  and  rejected  with  a  plump  No.  A 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  7 

second  and  better  considered  effort,  coupled  witli  a 
disproportionately  large  pecuniary  consideration, 
had  fared  no  better.  There  Luther  Terns  was,  and 
there  he  meant  to  stay,  as  his  father  and  his  grand 
father  had  before  him  to  a  great  age,  till  Death 
bethought  himself  at  last  of  these  loiterers  in  so 
obscure  a  corner  of  the  world,  and,  although  be 
lated,  gathered  them  in.  The  company  was  now  at 
its  wits'  end.  The  place  was  an  eyesore,  a  trail  of 
the  serpent  in  this  seeming  Paradise.  It  was,  too, 
a  source  of  danger  and  discomfort,  and  to  seek  to 
remove  it  was  one  of  Kenniston's  errands  here,  as 
well  as  to  confer  with  the  contractor,  in  his  dic 
tatorial  character  as  one  of  the  company  rather 
than  the  architect.  His  visit  was  so  timed  that  he 
was  on  the  ground  a  day  or  so  in  advance  of  his 
coadjutor,  and  in  furtherance  of  his  project  had 
asked  for  quarters  in  Luther  Tems's  house. 

Far  was  it  from  Luther  Terns,  the  fear  of  being 
over-persuaded.  He  was  a  lugubrious  presentment 
of  obstinacy,  as  he  sat  at  his  hearthstone.  The 
immovable  determination  expressed  in  the  lines  of 
his  face  and  the  curve  of  his  lips  was  incongruous 
with  the  other  characteristics  of  his  aspect.  He 
was  not  of  the  gigantic  build  common  among  the 
mountaineers.  He  was  singularly  spare  and  alert, 
and  there  was  something  in  his  movements  and  in 
the  lines  of  his  figure  which  betokened  that  when 
endowed  with  more  flesh  it  had  expressed  an  unusual 
grace.  His  features  were  absolutely  regular,  and 
although  the  eye,  sunken  amidst  a  multitude  of 


8  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

wrinkles  and  half  hidden  by  the  beetling  eyebrow, 
no  longer  showed  the  fine  lines  of  its  setting  and 
its  pristine  color  and  brilliancy,  and  his  jaw  was 
lank  from  the  loss  of  teeth,  and  his  well-cut  lips 
were  contorted  over  his  quid  of  tobacco,  he  still 
exhibited  to  the  discerning  gaze  of  the  architect 
enough  traces  of  the  beauty  of  his  younger  days  to 
justify  the  feminine  sobriquet  of  "  Lucy."  A  good 
joke  it  had  been  in  the  Cove  forty  years  before,  but 
custom  had  dulled  its  edge  and  hallowed  its  use, 
and  now  he  would  have  had  to  think  twice  before 
he  saw  aught  incongruous  in  the  appellation.  It 
was  a  convenience  in  some  sort,  too,  and  averted 
misunderstandings,  for  his  son  bore  his  name  of 
Luther.  Although  inheriting  a  share  of  his  fa 
ther's  good  looks,  it  had  been  admixed  with  the 
"  favor "  of  the  Tates,  his  mother's  people,  who 
were  a  tall,  burly  folk.  He  was  heavier  far  than 
his  father,  and  slower  at  twenty-four  than  "  Lucy  " 
Terns  would  be  at  eighty.  The  strong  resemblance 
in  their  faces  ended  there,  for  naught  could  be 
more  unlike  the  elder  than  the  meditative  com 
posure  with  which  the  younger  man  sat  and  smoked 
his  pipe,  and  now  slowly  rose  and  replenished  the 
fire  and  seated  himself  anew.  He  had  nothing  in 
look  or  motion  of  the  panther-like,  dangerous  in 
timation  that  informed  the  old  man's  every  gesture 
and  glance.  But  this  expressed  itself  with  a  cer 
tain  supple,  feline  effect  in  his  daughter,  a  tall  girl, 
in  whom  the  beauty  of  his  youth  was  duplicated. 
She  had  the  chestnut  hair,  the  exquisitely  fair  com- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  9 

plexion  with  its  shifting  roseate  suffusion,  the  large 
beautifully  set  dark  blue  eye,  the  high  narrow 
forehead  from  which  the  hair  grew  backward,  but 
lying  on  the  temples  in  delicate  fibrous  waves,  — 
all  the  fine  detail  that  had  graced  her  father's 
youth,  and  that  had  seemed  so  wasted  on  the  wild 
scapegrace  boy  of  the  mountains,  merely  attaining 
the  recognition  of  ridicule  among  his  fellows,  and 
unvalued  by  its  possessor.  She  wore  a  dark  blue 
homespun  dress  that  enhanced  her  fairness,  and 
she  sat  in  a  low  chair  in  the  firelit  log  room  and 
busied  herself,  with  a  monotonous  gesture  and  a 
certain  sleek  aspect,  in  carding  cotton.  Kenniston 
had  seen  her  previously,  and  in  his  preoccupied 
mind  she  roused  no  interest,  neither  then  nor  now. 

He  sat  down  by  the  fire,  among  them,  much  net 
tled  to  observe  that  there  was  a  stranger,  a  man 
whom  he  had  never  before  seen  here,  ensconced 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  hearth.  The  shadow  of 
the  primitive  mantelshelf  obscured  his  face,  and 
even  when  the  fire  flashed  up  it  barely  sufficed  to 
show  his  burly  figure  in  an  attitude  of  composed 
waiting  and  observation. 

His  presence  added  an  element  of  doubt  and  dif 
ficulty  to  the  already  troublous  negotiation,  and 
Kenniston,  accustomed  to  civilized  methods,  and 
having  expected  to  carry  all  before  him,  felt  a 
sinking  of  the  heart  out  of  proportion  to  the  value 
of  the  property  he  coveted.  He  had,  in  his  experi 
ence,  conducted  delicate  and  difficult  negotiations, 
involving  large  considerations,  many  parties  in  in- 


10  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

terest,  and  conflicting  claims,  to  a  successful  issue. 
And  yet,  what  enterprise  so  unpromising  as  to  buy 
from  a  man  who  will  not  sell !  So  did  the  half- 
masked  presence  of  the  stranger  in  the  shadow 
shake  his  confidence  that  he  did  not  at  once  open 
the  subject  nearest  his  heart.  A  short  silence 
ensued  upon  the  greetings,  and  he  was  fain  to  lay 
hold  upon  the  weather  as  a  subterfuge. 

"  It  holds  fair,  colonel,"  he  said. 

He  used  the  title  in  secret  derision,  as  the  usual 
sobriquet  of  men  of  dignity  and  substance  in  the 
lowlands.  He  had  scant  faith  in  the  existence  of 
any  discerning  perceptions  and  delicate  sentiments 
in  the  minds  or  hearts  of  people  in  homespun  ;  it 
had  served  to  amuse  him  at  his  first  meeting  with 
old  Terns,  when  he  had  not  dreamed  that  so  un 
couth  a  character  had  a  part  to  play  upon  the  elab 
orate  stage  of  his  own  future,  which  was  a-build- 
ing  with  such  care  and  thought  and  hope,  and  he 
had  laughed  in  his  sleeve  to  observe  the  simplicity 
and  acquiescence  with  which  the  fine  title  was  ac 
cepted.  He  intended  its  use  in  no  military  sense, 
and  he  did  not  learn  till  afterward  that  old  Terns 
bore  a  veritable  title,  which  he  had  earned  on 
stricken  battlefields,  and  had  later  commanded  a 
band  of  guerrillas  whose  name  was  a  terror  and  a 
threat. 

Terns  took  his  pipe  from  between  his  lips.  "  It 
holds  fair,"  he  echoed  drawlingly ;  then,  "  Dunno 
fur  how  long,"  as  if  to  admonish  any  speculator  in 
the  weather  to  be  not  too  happy  in  a  vale  of  such 
incertitude. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  11 

"  All  signs  favor ! "  A  sudden  singing  feminine 
tone  pervaded  the  conversation. 

Kemiiston  glanced  up.  In  one  corner,  a  stair 
way  from  the  attic  above  came  down  into  the  room. 
A  young  girl,  whom  he  had  not  before  noticed,  was 
sitting  on  the  steps  midway.  From  this  coigne  of 
vantage  she  overlooked  the  room,  and  participated 
in  the  conversation  when  moved  to  do  so. 

Kenniston  fancied  that  from  some  real  or  affected 
rustic  shyness  because  of  his  presence  she  had 
sought  this  retirement,  for  she  flushed  deeply  at  his 
glance,  and  bent  her  head  over  a  piece  of  rough 
mending  which  she  seemed  to  be  perpetrating  on  a 
jeans  coat  with  a  gigantic  needle  and  a  very  coarse 
thread.  She  could  hardly  have  seen  very  well  to 
set  the  stitches,  and  as  her  side  was  toward  him  he 
could  ill  distinguish  her  face  for  the  shadow  and 
her  industrious  attitude  and  her  falling  hair. 

Julia  Terns  looked  up  at  her  with  a  laughing 
glance,  half  raillery,  half  sneer.  But  the  brother 
took  up  the  question  with  an  air  of  contention ;  he 
wanted  rain  for  his  corn  crop,  and  he  believed  the 
clouds  must  surely  hold  it  in  trust  for  him. 

"The  fog  war  a-getherin'  along  the  mountings 
this  eveiiin',  an'  I  seen  'bout  a  hour  ago  a  thunder- 
head  a-loafin'  round  over  Piomingo,"  he  averred 
with  a  certain  bitterness,  as  if  to  protest  against 
the  arguing  away  of  these  prospects. 

"  Waal,"  the  singing  voice,  curiously  vibrant, 
broke  forth  once  more,  "  we  air  likely  ter  git  a  good 
full  rain,  ez  would  holp  up  the  crap  'fore  long,  but 


12  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

we  ain't  goin'  ter  hev  no  steady  set  o'  bad  weather 
now.  Signs  don't  favor  it." 

The  old  man  again  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth. 

"  Ye-es.  An'  a  body  mought  b'lieve  from  yer 
talk  that  ef  Satan  war  ter  cotch  us  by  the  right  leg 
this  week,  he  'd  be  mighty  likely  ter  turn  us  loose 
by  the  lef  leg  nex'  week."  He  laughed  sarcasti 
cally.  "  All  of  us  air  s'prisin'  apt  ter  be  suited, 
no  matter  how  things  turn  out."  He  replaced  his 
pipe,  adding,,  with  the  stem  between  his  teeth, 
"That's  Ad'licia's  notion,"  and  then  smoked  imper- 
turbably. 

The  little  optimist  looked  at  him  with  an  indig 
nant,  affronted  gaze  for  a  moment,  then  bent  once 
more  to  her  sewing. 

She  had  forgotten  Kenniston,  and  her  face  was 
fully  revealed  in  the  moment  that  she  had  turned  it 
on  her  critic,  —  an  oval  face,  with  a  little  round 
unassertive  chin,  a  thin,  delicate,  aquiline  nose,  a 
small  mouth  with  full  lips,  the  indenture  in  the  upper 
one  so  deep  as  to  make  it  truly  like  a  bow,  and 
widely  opened  gray  eyes  that  resembled  nothing  so 
much  as  moss  agates.  They  were  veiled  by  long, 
reddish  lashes,  and  the  hair  that  hung  curling  down 
about  the  nape  of  her  neck  was  of  a  dull  copper 
hue.  Her  complexion  was  exceedingly  white,  and 
she  had  that  thin-skinned  look  which  is  incompati 
ble  with  freckles  as  annuals ;  in  those  milk-white 
spaces  about  the  eyes  were  sundry  tokens  of  the 
sunny  weather  which  even  the  dark  days  of  winter 
would  not  obliterate.  Her  figure  was  slender,  and 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  13 

she  did  not  look  strong.  She  wore  a  brown  home 
spun  dress,  and  she  bit  the  coarse  thread  with  a 
doable  row  of  small  perfect  white  teeth  as  she  ad 
dressed  herself  to  threading  her  big  needle  anew. 

"  Studyin'  'bout  the  weather,  an'  gittin'  onhappy 
'bout  yer  buildin'?"  demanded  old  Terns  of  his 
guest. 

There  was  a  slight  twist  of  the  lips,  suggestive  of 
covert  ridicule  on  his  part,  as  he  asked  the  ques 
tion. 

Kenniston  was  totally  unaware  of  furnishing  in 
his  proper  person  amusement  to  the  mountaineer, 
but  to  his  host  he  seemed  a  fool  more  bountifully 
endowed  with  folly  than  any  other  specimen  of  the 
genus  with  whom  Terns  had  ever  been  brought  into 
contact,  and  the  projected  hotel  was  accounted  a 
ludicrous  impossibility.  It  was  Tems's  secret  per 
suasion  that  most  of  the  population  of  this  country 
had  been  slain  in  the  war ;  he  had  himself  seen 
much  slaughter  in  its  grim  actuality.  The  idea 
that  there  were  people  who  would  wish  to  come 
long  journeys  to  fill  that  vast  projected  structure 
seemed  the  most  preposterous  vaporing  of  imbecility. 

"  Ain't  they  got  nowhar  ter  bide  ? "  he  would 
demand,  in  incredulous  pity  for  the  homeless  sum 
mer  birds. 

He  had  come  at  last  to  treat  it  in  his  own  mind 
as  a  bubble,  a  mere  brainless  figment,  and  only  his 
courteous  instincts  prevented  this  from  becoming 
apparent,  although  now  and  again  it  was  perilously 
near  revelation. 


14  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  Well,  no ;  I  think  the  weather  won't  affect  my 
building  for  a  good  while  yet,"  answered  Kenniston. 
Then,  with  a  sudden  afterthought,  and  perceiving 
the  opening,  "  I  'm  troubled,  though,  about  the 
blasting  for  the  coal  cellars  and  wine  cellar.  There 
will  of  necessity  be  quite  an  avalanche  of  fragments 
of  the  rock  falling  into  the  valley,  and  I  wanted  to 
give  you  warning  of  it  before  it  begins." 

The  look  of  attention  deepened  on  the  old  face. 
The  thin  old  head  suavely  nodded. 

"  Thanky,  sir.  I  feel  obligated."  And  old  Terns 
relapsed  into  silence. 

Kenniston  was  baffled  for  a  moment,  but  pres 
ently  he  returned  to  the  charge. 

"  You  and  your  family  could  leave  the  premises 
while  the  blasting  was  in  progress.  It  might  be 
inconvenient,  but " 

"  Yes  —  ye-es  —  ef  so  minded,"  the  ancient  house 
holder  acquiesced. 

"  By  all  means,"  Kenniston  pursued  with  more 
energy,  stroking  his  brown  whiskers  with  one  hand, 
while  he  looked,  keenly  interrogative,  at  his  inter 
locutor.  "  There  might  be  danger,  positive  danger, 
in  remaining."  Then,  seeking  an  ally,  and  taking 
hope  from  the  quiescent  silence  of  the  stranger  in 
the  corner,  "  You  agree  with  me  surely  ?  " 

The  stranger  laughed,  a  round,  vigorous,  elastic 
tone. 

"  Waal,  I  reckon  old  Cap'n  Lucy  is  about  ez 
good  a  jedge  ez  ter  the  dangers  in  dealin'  in  gun 
powder  ez  ye  '11  meet  up  with  this  side  o'  Jordan. 
I  'd  be  willin'  ter  leave  sech  ter  him." 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  15 

"  Of  course  —  of  course,"  Kenniston  agreed  has 
tily.  "  Only  I  am  anxious  to  have  no  sort  of  respon 
sibility, —  moral  responsibility,  I  mean,  —  in  case 
of  an  accident  to  members  of  his  family." 

He  reflected  that  two  of  these  were  feminine, 
that  the  sex  is  to  a  unit  a  coward  by  open  confes 
sion,  and  he  sought  to  play  upon  their  fears. 

But  once  more  Adelicia  interfered  to  show  the 
more  hopeful  side  of  things. 

"  It 's  toler'ble  fur  from  hyar,  a  right  good 
piece,"  she  turned  her  head  to  say  before  she  again 
bit  the  thread. 

"  Not  from  the  site  of  the  first  blasting ;  the  wine 
cellar  will  be  under  the  billiard-room,  which  will  be 
in  the  pavilion  at  this  end  of  the  bluffs."  He  had 
waxed  warm,  excited.  "  The  rock  could  easily  be 
flung  as  far  as  this,  and  even  if  no  human  life  were 
endangered,  might  kill  horses  or  cows,  or  crash 
through  the  roof,  or  break  down  the  chimney." 

"  Waal,  the  comp'ny  is  a  good,  solid,  solvent 
comp'ny,  ain't  it?"  said  the  man  in  the  corner 
unexpectedly,  —  "  respons'ble  in  damages  ?  " 

Kenniston  recoiled  suddenly,  and  Terns  pricked 
up  his  ears,  like  the  old  war-horse  that  he  was. 
The  prospect  of  conflict  in  whatever  sort  was  grate 
ful  to  his  senses,  and  he  snuffed  the  battle  from 
afar.  In  this,  too,  he  saw  his  defense  and  his  op 
portunity.  Kenniston  would  hardly  have  conceived 
it  possible  that,  with  such  inconsiderable  adversa 
ries,  he  could  be  routed  in  diplomacy.  It  was  not, 
however,  to  bring  matters  to  this  point  of  view  that 
his  schemes  were  designed. 


16  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"  I  hope  there  will  be  no  need  for  a  demand  for 
damages,"  he  said  stiffly.  Then,  driven  back  upon 
his  last  resource,  the  simple  truth,  he  continued, 
turning  toward  the  man  in  the  corner,  "  It  has  been 
partly  to  avert  all  dangers  and  troubles  that  the 
company  has  been  trying  to  buy  out  Mr.  Terns,  at 
his  own  price." 

"  My  h'a'thstone  hain't  got  no  price,"  said  old 
Terns  acridly. 

Kenniston  had  thrown  himself  back  in  his  chair 
with  a  dogged  exasperation  of  manner.  His  hands 
were  thrust  into  the  pockets  of  his  short  flannel 
coat.  His  square  chin,  glimpsed  in  the  parting  of 
his  full  beard,  was  deeply  sunken  in  its  lustrous 
fibres.  His  lowering  blue  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
fire,  all  aglow,  for  at  this  altitude  the  chill  summer 
nights  cannot  dispense  with  the  smouldering  back 
log.  His  legs,  in  their  somewhat  worn  integu 
ments  of  dark  flannel  and  long  boots,  — for  there 
are  penalties  to  footgear  and  garb  in  clambering 
about  these  rough  mountains,  —  were  stretched  out 
before  him,  and  Adelicia's  cat  found  them  conven 
ient  to  rub  against,  as  she  arched  her  back  and 
purred  in  the  dull  red  light.  He  felt  at  the  mo 
ment  irritated  beyond  measure.  This  idea  of  a 
lawsuit,  craftily  interjected  by  the  stranger  whom 
he  himself  had  called  into  the  conversation,  might 
seriously  embarrass  the  proceedings  of  the  com 
pany.  It  could  be  held  in  terrorem  at  every  point. 
Nay,  it  might  incite  Terns  to  seek  out  occasion  to 
make  a  pretext  of  injury.  It  added  a  prospect  of 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  17 

indefinite  discomfort  and  jeopardy  to  the  already 
harassed  present. 

"  I  kin  b'lieve  that,  Cap'n  Lucy,  —  I  kin  b'lieve 
that,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  sudden  outpouring 
of  his  full,  mellow,  rich  voice.  Its  sonorousness  and 
sweetness  struck  Kenniston  only  vaguely  then,  but 
he  remembered  it  afterward.  "  Ye  want  yer  home, 
an'  the  company  wants  yer  hut." 

"  I  don't  want  thar  money,  —  ain't  got  no  cu- 
r'osity  'bout  the  color  of  it,"  old  Terns  said  tartly. 

Neither  of  the  younger  Temses  uttered  a  word. 
Luther  smoked  imperturbably,  and  Julia,  as  sleek, 
as  lithe,  as  supple  as  a  panther,  bent  her  beautiful, 
clear-cut,  distinct  face  above  the  cards,  which  she 
moved  with  a  flexible  elasticity  that  made  it  seem 
no  labor.  Every  line  about  her  was  sharply  drawn ; 
the  very  plaits  of  her  glossy  hair  showed  their  sep 
arate  strands,  over  and  under  and  over  again,  in 
the  coil  at  the  back  of  her  head.  Against  the  dark 
wall,  she  had  a  fixity,  a  definiteness  of  effect,  like  a 
cameo,  in  contrast  with  the  somewhat  tousled  head 
which  Adelicia  held  back  to  observe  her  completed 
industry.  She  lifted  the  mended  coat  in  both 
hands  before  her,  and  contemplated  the  patch,  set 
on  indeed  as  if  it  should  never  come  off  again, 
but  with  what  affront  to  the  art  of  fine  needle 
work! 

She  was  not  so  absorbed,  however,  as  to  be  un 
mindful  of  the  disaffected  state  of  feeling  in  the 
room  below,  and  she  must  needs  seek  to  improve  it. 

"  We  ain't  so  mighty  easy  tarrified,  nohow,"  she 


18  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

remarked,  suavely  addressing  the  information  more 
directly  to  Kenniston's  pretended  fears  for  their 
safety.  "An'  ez  ter  rocks  fallin'  an'  sech,"  —  she 
turned  her  head  askew  to  better  observe  the  effect 
of  the  flagrant  patch,  —  "I  hev  tuk  notice  ez  trees 
streck  by  lightning  mostly  falls  whar  thar  ain't  no 
house." 

"  'Kase  thar  be  mighty  few  houses  whar  the  trees 
be  lef,"  observed  old  Terns,  whose  contradictory 
faculties  were  called  into  play  every  time  she 
spoke. 

"  Waal,  fower  hev  fell,  lightning-streck,  sence 
we-uns  hev  been  a-livin'  hyar,  an'  nare  one  teched 
us,"  she  argued. 

Kenniston  caught  his  breath.  "  How  long  have 
you  been  living  here,  colonel  ?  "  The  secret  gibe 
came  back  to  him  with  the  sudden  secret  renewal 
of  his  hope. 

"  Five  year,  or  thereabout,"  growled  old  Terns. 

"  Five  year  this  comin'  fall,"  put  in  Adelicia, 
with  exactitude.  "  We-uns  lived  then  nigher  sun 
rise,  on  the  flat  o'  the  mounting,  over  thar."  She 
nodded  with  her  wealth  of  bronze  curls  toward  the 
east  to  indicate  the  direction  of  the  locality. 

"  And  if  you  would  move  then,  colonel,  why  not 
now  ?  "  demanded  Kenniston. 

It  seemed  as  if  old  Terns  would  not  reply.  So 
deep  a  scowl  had  corrugated  his  face  that  in  its 
wizard-like  aspect  not  the  faintest  vestige  of  his 
famous  ancient  beauty  remained. 

"  Burnt  out,"  he  growled  at  last. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  19 

"The  fire-scald,  ye  see,"  explained  Adelicia, 
turning  her  oval  face  upon  Kenniston. 

It  had  an  old-fashioned,  even  a  foreign  cast,  was 
his  superficial  thought,  as  he  gazed  up  at  her  in  the 
dusky  shadows  of  the  staircase ;  it  reminded  him 
of  some  antique  miniature.  But  his  recognized 
idea  was  expressed  in  the  words,  echoed  in  surprise 
and  with  a  touch  of  dismay,  "  The  fire-scald  !  " 

"  Fire  war  set  out  in  the  woods  ter  burn  the  bresh ; 
but  the  wind  sprung  up,  it  did,  an'  the  fire  tuk  the 
house  an'  fence  an'  all.  Ye  mus'  hev  noticed  the 
fire-scald  over  yon  ?  "  Once  more  she  nodded  her 
head  in  intimation  of  the  direction.  "  Then  we-uns 
moved  hyar  an'  raised  this  house." 

Old  Terns's  surly,  disaffected  look  caught  her  at 
tention.  "  But  this  hyar  house  air  a  heap  better  'n 
the  burnt  one  ;  that  war  old,  fur  true,  an'  I  tell  ye 
the  wind  used  ter  shake  it  whenst  stormin'.  Roof 
leaked,  too.  Roof  war  so  old  that  the  clapboards 
war  fastened  on  with  wooden  paigs  stiddier  nails. 
My  great-gran'dad  —  Cap'n  Lucy's  gran'dad  — 
did  n't  hev  much  modern  improvemints,  leastwise 
in  blacksmith's  gear,  when  he  kem  hyar  ter  settle 
from  old  Car'liny." 

She  glanced  down,  smiling.  Her  strangely  old- 
fashioned  little  face  was  lovely  in  smiling,  but  Ken 
niston  did  not  heed ;  he  did  not  even  hear  her 
words ;  he  was  absorbed  in  a  train  of  thought  that 
came  to  him  as  she  talked. 

She  looked  slightly  ill  at  ease  for  a  moment, 
perceiving  the  defection  of  his  attention;  then, 


20  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

as  if  to  make  the  best  of  it,  she  turned  her  head 
and  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  the  man  in  the 
corner. 

"  Ye  hev  hearn  that?  "  she  said. 

He  nodded.  She  saw  the  gleam  of  his  full  blue 
eye.  "  They  called  East  Tennessee  the  'Washington 
Deestric','  arter  them  days,"  he  said,  his  big  voice 
booming  out.  Then  he  went  on  to  tell  of  an  old 
house  which  he  knew,  in  which  wooden  pegs  also 
served  as  nails,  as  a  set-off,  it  might  seem,  to  the 
ancient  dwelling  that  perished  in  the  "  fire-scald," 
and  presently  he  was  wrangling  with  old  Terns  as 
to  the  precise  route  that  certain  early  settlers  were 
said  to  have  taken  through  the  mountains,  in  which 
discussion  even  the  silent  Luther  joined,  and  Ken- 
iiiston  was  left  undisturbed  to  his  thoughts. 

These  thoughts  were  significant  enough.  He 
had  seen  this  vast  property  of  his  only  once  before 
in  all  the  years  that  it  had  been  in  his  possession. 
It  had  descended  to  him  in  due  course,  with  the 
rest  of  the  paternal  estate,  at  the  death  of  his 
father,  who  had  been  a  successful  merchant  of  Bre 
ton  ville.  He  had  had  some  little  but  well-restrained 
inclination  for  speculation,  and  these  miles  of  moun 
tain  fastnesses  were  a  single  instance  of  it,  looking 
to  the  future  development  of  mineral  resources. 
The  abandoned  mine  in  the  gorge  expressed  the 
failure  of  hopes  of  silver  and  lead,  which  had  led 
him  only  for  a  little  while  and  only  a  short  dis 
tance.  He  himself  had  never  laid  eyes  on  his  pur 
chase  ;  but  once,  in  a  college  vacation,  the  son,  on 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  21 

a  pedestrian  tour,  had  explored  to  some  purpose 
the  woods  up  and  down  these  steeps  and  across 
the  line.  Kenniston  remembered  now  for  the  first 
time  how  the  face  of  the  country  had  impressed 
him  then,  for  the  fire-scald  had  so  altered  its  aspect. 
The  slope  where  the  quaint  little  ante-Revolution 
ary  house  was  perched  had  then  seemed  high  and 
steep.  In  building  anew,  Luther  Terns  had  selected 
a  site  on  more  level  ground,  considerably  removed 
from  the  area  of  the  burnt  district.  Possibly  the 
fear  of  disaster  when  those  blackened  and  decaying 
trees  should  finally  complete  their  doom  and  fall, 
or  the  vicinage  of  springs  for  the  essential  water 
supply  for  man  and  beast,  had  served  to  influence 
his  decision  ;  but  he  had  Certainly  made  a  very  con 
siderable  journey  from  his  former  situation,  and  cut 
a  large  cantle  out  of  the  Cove  in  his  present  settle 
ment. 

Kenniston's  mind  was  hard  upon  the  trail  of  the 
boundary  lines,  as  his  absorbed  eyes  dwelt  on  the 
red  fire.  They  were  ill  defined  in  his  memory,  for 
when  the  great  body  of  a  man's  land,  numbering 
thousands  of  acres,  bears  a  merely  nominal  price, 
a  few  furlongs  amiss  here  or  there  in  the  wild 
jungle  of  the  laurel  are  hardly  worth  the  counting. 
In  this  particular  instance  the  accuracy  of  metes 
and  bounds  made  a  difference  all  apart  from  actual 
values.  It  was  his  recollection  that  his  lines  in 
cluded  all  those  slopes  to  the  "  backbone,"  a  high 
craggy  ridge  that  ran  like  a  spinal  column  adown 
the  mountain  mass.  If  this  were  the  case,  old 


22  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

Terns  had  inadvertently  set  up  his  staff  of  rest  on 
his  neighbor's  land,  was  himself  a  mere  trespasser, 
and  might  be  ejected  without  difficulty  in  due  pro 
cess  of  law. 

Kenniston  stirred  uneasily  as  he  contemplated 
this  possibility.  In  its  extreme  unpopularity  there 
was  a  very  definite  menace.  He  could  ill  afford 
to  antagonize  the  whole  countryside.  The  lawless, 
illogical  mountain  population  would  be  arrayed  as 
a  unit  against  his  interests.  Even  single-handed, 
old  Cap'n  Lucy  seemed  formidable,  when  active 
aggressions  were  contemplated.  And  he  could 
appreciate,  too,  the  seeming  injustice,  from  the 
rustic  standpoint,  that,  for  the  frivolous  and  flip 
pant  desire  of  keeping  the  landscape  sightly  for 
the  fastidious  gaze  of  the  gentlefolk,  an  old  man 
and  his  family  must  be  turned  out  of  house  and 
home.  Kenniston  knew  that  although  he  might 
pay  the  full  value  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  improvements, 
the  popular  censor  would  account  this  naught  if  the 
mountaineer  were  forced  to  quit  his  home  against 
his  will. 

Nevertheless  law  is  law,  and  Kenniston  could 
easily  forecast  the  triumphant  result  of  a  legal  ar 
bitrament.  Terns  had  not  been  ensconced  here, 
within  his  own  inclosures,  claiming  as  his  own, 
long  enough  to  acquire  any  title  under  the 
statute  of  limitations,  even  if  he  could  establish 
adverse  possession.  The  property  was  his  own, 
and  he  would  satisfy  even  every  moral  claim 
upon  him  in  paying  the  interloper  the  full  value  of 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  23 

his  improvements.  At  all  events  he  would  have 
the  line  run  out,  and  perhaps  the  land  formally 
processioned. 

At  the  idea  of  prompt  action  in  the  matter,  his 
full  red  lips,  only  partially  visible  through  his 
beard  and  mustache,  were  pressed  together  firmly ; 
his  teeth  met  with  a  certain  stiffening  of  the  jaw 
into  a  hard,  determined  expression ;  his  eyes  were 
cast  up  suddenly  over  the  primitive  humble  interior 
of  the  cabin  with  a  certain  impatience  of  its  un- 
couthness,  so  at  variance  with  the  gala  trim  of 
modern  comforts,  so  homely,  so  American,  so  hope 
lessly,  desperately,  the  presentment  of  the  unpro- 
gressive  backwoods.  Built  five  years  ago,  said 
they !  It  might  have  graced  the  "  Washington 
Deestric'."  His  white  teeth  showed,  as  he  half 
sneered  and  half  laughed.  He  would,  if  he  might, 
with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  have  swept  it  and  all  it 
represented  out  of  existence ;  nay,  into  oblivion. 
As  his  eyes  came  once  more  to  their  former  point 
of  rest,  the  fire,' they  suddenly  encountered  the  in 
tent  gaze  of  the  man  in  the  corner.  It  discomfited 
Kenniston  in  some  sort,  although  he  could  not  have 
said  why.  His  glance  fell ;  he  nervously  uncrossed 
and  recrossed  his  legs,  and  thrust  his  hands  deeper 
into  his  pockets.  A  vague  sense  of  sustaining 
covert  enmity  had  begun  to  pervade  his  conscious 
ness.  He  could  not  say  whether  this  were  induced 
by  the  mere  inception  of  the  unpopular  idea  of 
eviction,  or  whether  it  were  a  subtle  perception  of 
something  antagonistic  in  the  mental  attitude  to- 


24  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

ward  him  of  the  composed,  watchful  man  who  sat 
in  the  corner.  It  was  not  a  furtive  observation. 
It  dwelt  upon  him  openly,  deliberately,  steadily. 
It  held  no  element  of  offensiveness ;  it  was  so  calm, 
so  incidental,  so  apparently,  so  naturally,  the  con 
comitant  of  the  thoughtful,  contemplative  pipe, 
which  now  and  again  his  hand  steadied,  or  removed 
to  release  a  wreath  of  the  strong  tobacco  smoke 
which  pervaded  the  apartment.  Yet  Kenniston  felt, 
oddly  enough,  that  it  was  not  an  incidental  obser 
vation.  It  was  charged  with  much  discernment. 
A  discriminating  analysis  was,  he  instinctively 
knew,  coupled  with  it.  He  began,  on  his  part,  to 
more  definitely  gauge  the  two  or  three  fragmen 
tary  contributions  which  the  stranger  had  flung  into 
the  talk.  The  allusion  to  the  solvency  of  a  com 
pany  and  its  responsibility  in  damages  savored  of  a 
knowledge  far  beyond  the  ken  of  the  Cove,  this 
region  of  primitive  barter  where  there  is  neither 
currency  nor  commerce  ;  where  the  operations  of 
far-away  courts  are  but  faintly  echoed,  as  of  retri 
bution  overtaking  some  reckless  and  unwary  crim 
inal,  and  the  provisions  of  the  law  seem  merely 
futile  and  disregarded  devices  of  lawyers  who  seek 
to  live  upon  the  people  by  their  enforcement. 
Then  the  crafty  contrast  of  the  differing  estimates 
of  the  house,  the  one  as  a  home,  the  other  as  a  hut, 
intimated  some  definite  capacity  to  play  upon  the 
springs  of  human  emotions.  He  wondered  if  he 
had  ever  before  seen  this  man.  He  had  a  good 
memory,  but  he  did  not  charge  it  with  the  various 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  25 

mountaineers  lie  met,  and  sometimes  he  forgot  their 
names  and  occasionally  their  personality.  He  was 
restive  under  this  slow,  reflective  gaze,  and  he  pushed 
back  his  chair  suddenly  and  walked  away  to  the 
door.  It  was  open  and  widely  flaring,  and  he  stood 
there  as  if  scanning  the  weather  signs. 

For  so  long  he  had  seen  the  castellated  walls  of  his 
new  building  rise  upon  the  great  natural  terrace  of 
the  mountain,  above  the  series  of  crags,  that  he  expe 
rienced  a  sort  of  subacute  surprise  to  mark  the  lone 
liness  and  melancholy  of  the  landscape.  Only  the 
pinnacles  of  the  mists  glimmered  in  the  moon,  as 
unsubstantial  as  the  turrets  of  his  fancy.  Below 
were  all  the  darkling  spaces  of  the  night-shadowed 
forests.  Above,  the  heavily  wooded  slopes  loomed 
vaguely  in  the  dim  light,  for  the  moon  was  in  her 
first  quarter,  here  showing  the  gaunt  face  of  a  crag, 
and  there  a  ravine  made  visible  by  thronging 
spectre-like  vapors.  The  stars  were  bright.  Near 
the  great  dome  he  marked  the  scintillating  circlet 
of  the  Northern  Crown ;  its  splendors  seemed  en 
hanced,  he  thought,  by  the  vicinage  of  that  tower 
ing  densely  dark  mass  beneath.  So  still  it  all 
was  !  He  heard  the  silvery  tinkle  of  the  liberated 
mountain  springs  near  his  own  site  sounding  with 
such  freshness,  with  such  elfin  spontaneity,  with 
such  flexible  fantasies  of  cadence,  that  one  would 
have  imagined  he  must  surely  have  bethought  him 
how  featly  the  chorusing  oreads  were  singing ;  it 
only  brought  to  his  mind  anew  the  chemical  analy 
sis,  and  the  hordes  of  valetudinarians  waiting  to 


26  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

bring  all  their  ills,  real  and  imaginary,  to  lay  them, 
with  more  valuable  considerations,  at  the  shrine  of 
his  Spa. 

His  sense  of  difficulties  and  discouragements 
took  on  a  new  lease,  and  as  he  turned  impatiently 
away  from  the  door  he  almost  ran  against  young- 
Luther  Terns,  who  had  come  to  gaze  upon  the 
clouds  with  that  humble,  expectant  wistfulness 
characteristic  of  those  votaries  of  the  weather,  the 
farmer  class. 

"  Would  you-uns  jedge  thar  war  rain  in  that 
batch  o'  clouds  settin'  ter  the  south?"  he  drawled 
seductively,  as  if  he  sought  to  influence  favorably 
the  unprejudiced  opinion  he  asked. 

"  I  'm  no  judge  of  weather  signs,"  Kenniston  re 
turned  succinctly,  although  in  another  mood  it 
would  have  suited  well  his  satiric  bent  to  invent 
and  promulgate  a  formula  of  fictitious  barometrical 
science. 

As  he  glanced  loweringly  toward  the  fireside 
group,  thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and  ad 
vancing  with  long  steps  to  his  former  chair,  he  was 
quick  to  observe  that  the  man  in  the  corner  seemed 
to  have  determined  on  a  leisurely  departure.  He 
had  risen,  and  was  returning  to  his  pocket  a  brier- 
root  pipe,  taking  the  sedulous  care  to  knock  all 
the  ashes  out  of  it  on  the  jamb  of  the  fireplace, 
which  betrays  him  whose  pocket  linings  have  more 
than  once  been  the  scene  of  an  incipient  conflagra 
tion.  Kenniston  regarded  him,  as  he  stood  in  the 
full  light,  with  a  disaffected  interest,  a  sort  of  re- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  27 

sponsive  enmity.  And  yet  there  was  nothing  of  it 
self  inimical  in  this  man's  bearing.  On  the  contrary, 
suggestions  of  good  fellowship  predominated  in  his 
open  manner  and  clear  blue  eye.  He  was  exceed 
ingly  tall,  not  judging  by  Cap'n  Lucy's  elegant  and 
slight  proportions,  nor  by  the  burlier  Luther's 
height,  but  by  actual  measurement.  It  had  been 
long  since  he  had  shaved,  —  his  full  yellow  beard 
hung  like  a  golden  fleece  far  down  over  the  breast 
of  his  brown  jeans  coat;  his  long,  straight  yellow 
hair,  of  the  same  tint,  had  its  edges  upturned  in  the 
semblance  of  curl  by  the  obstacle  of  his  collar.  He 
had  a  large,  bony,  hooked  nose,  which  gave  a  cer 
tain  strength  to  his  countenance.  The  fashion  of 
the  feature  was  such  as  to  suggest  sagacity  in  some 
sort,  as  of  keen  instinctive  faculties,  but  its  expres 
sion  was  as  ferocious  as  that  of  an  eagle's  beak. 
His  mustache  hid  his  lips  and  was  lost  in  his 
beard.  He  wore  great  spurred  boots  drawn  high 
over  his  brown  jeans  trousers,  and  a  wide-brimmed 
black  wool  hat.  A  faded  red  handkerchief  about 
his  neck  now  and  again  showed  amidst  the  hirsute 
abundance,  for  he  turned  his  head  quickly  and  vigi 
lantly.  He  had  an  air  of  self-confidence  which  was 
somewhat  imposing.  It  constrained  in  his  interloc 
utor  a  sort  of  reluctant  acceptance  of  his  own  es 
timate  of  himself.  Kenniston,  looking  at  him  with 
an  unacknowledged  respect  for  the  untrained  natural 
forces  his  personality  expressed,  felt  him  to  be  for 
midable  ;  how,  or  why,  or  when  it  was  not  manifest, 
nor  in  what  sort  his  conciliation  might  be  com- 


28  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

passed,  nor  how  it  should  be  worth  the  effort.  His 
bland  phrases  of  departure  set  the  man  of  etiquette 
ill  at  ease.  Keimiston  was  accustomed  to  uncouth- 
ness  in  the  mountaineers,  even  to  lowering  looks 
and  open  expressions  of  enmity  when  he  or  his  plans 
impinged  on  their  prejudices ;  polite  duplicity,  the 
native  of  drawing-rooms,  seemed  strangely  out  of 
place  in  this  region  of  paradisaic  simplicity  of  feel 
ing  and  manner.  His  own  acute  social  sense  and 
his  valued  commercial  acumen  had  given  him  an  in 
tuition  of  this  man's  aversion  to  him  or  his  projects, 
or  both ;  but  his  hand  was  feeling  yet  the  stranger's 
cordial  grip,  and  the  sonorous  invitation,  "  Obli 
gated  ter  hev  a  visit  over  at  Lost  Time,"  was  ring 
ing  in  his  ears. 

"  Who  is  that  man  ?  "  he  abruptly  demanded  of 
his  host,  as  soon  as  the  jingle  of  the  spurs  and  the 
sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs  were  silent  on  the  air. 
Then,  seeking  to  make  his  question  more  incidental, 
he  added,  "  Seems  to  be  a  friend  of  yours." 

Cap'n  Lucy  and  Luther  looked  at  each  other, 
exchanging  a  grin  of  derision.  The  two  girls  seemed 
unaccountably  embarrassed. 

"Waal,  stranger,"  said  the  old  man,  "he's  a 
widower,  a  sort  of  perfessional  widower." 

Luther  broke  out  laughing  with  a  hearty  jovial 
ity.  It  surely  was  not  he  who  had  been  deluded  by 
the  clouds  and  made  the  sport  of  the  winds ;  it 
hardly  seemed  possible  that  he  could  take  so  much 
pleasure  in  aught  save  good  prospects  of  the  fruits 
of  the  earth. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  29 

"  He  hev  gin  me  an'  Luther  a  heap  o'  trouble, 
an'  we-uns  hev  tuk  a  power  o'  counsel  tergether  ez 
ter  what  we-uns  war  goin'  ter  do  'bout  it,"  old 
Terns  continued. 

Kenniston,  conscious  that  he  had  roused  some 
standing  joke,  cast  his  slightly  satirical  glance  from 
one  to  the  other,  and  with  a  sort  of  scornful  patience 
waited  their  pleasure  to  enlighten  him. 

Adelicia,  with  heightened  color  and  an  affronted 
aspect,  was  making  a  great  show  of  inattention ; 
while  Julia,  with  her  sleek,  deft  grace,  went  on  im 
passively  carding  cotton. 

"  He  kerns  hyar  a-visitin'  the  whole  fambly,  an' 
thar  he  sets  an'  sets ;  an'  Luther  loses  his  sleep, 
till,  follerin'  the  plough  nex'  day,  he  dunno  the 
share  from  the  ploughtail,  nor  Gee  from  Haw; 
mighty  nigh  fit  ter  fall  in  the  furrow,  jes'  walkin' 
in  his  sleep." 

Once  more  Luther's  crude  boyish  laughter  rang 
against  the  rafters  ;  this  was  at  all  events  no  som 
nambulistic  demonstration. 

"  Ef  thar  was  jes'  one  gal  in  the  fambly,  Luther 
an'  me  would  git  off  gyard  jewty  :  but  ez  fur  ez  he 
lets  on  he  jes'  kerns  ter  visit  us  all,  —  all ;  an'  hyar 
we  hev  got  ter  set,  an'  watch  him  cast  sheep's-eyes 
fust  at  one  gal,  then  at  t'other,  till  Luther  an'  me 
air  plumb  cross-eyed,  looking  two  ways  at  once." 

It  was  a  great  mutual  possession  to  have  so  witty 
a  father  and  so  appreciative  a  son. 

"  A'  fust,"  continued  the  old  man,  when  the  filial 
hilarity  had  somewhat  subsided,  "  I  jes'  felt  like  I 


30  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

could  n't  spar'  either  o'  the  gals.  Whenst  my  dar 
ter  was  born,  the  fust  thing  I  done  war  ter  buy  me 
a  shootin'  iron,  express  fur  the  fust  feller  ez  kem 
a-sidlin'  round,  talkin'  'bout  marryin'  her,  an'  takin' 
her  away,  an'  tryin'  ter  make  her  b'lieve  ez  he  was 
a  finer  feller  'n  her  own  dad  :  an'  I  did  n't  know  — 
the  insurance  o'  some  folks  is  powerful  survigrous 
—  but  he  mought  set  up  ter  purtend  ter  be  better 
lookin'f  " 

His  daughter  might  seem  to  have  shown  her 
appreciation  of  his  famous  good  looks  by  adopting 
them  all.  As  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  smiled  upon 
the  narrator,  the  brilliant  and  spirited  beauty  of  her 
face  might  indeed  be  a  welcome  reminiscence  of  the 
time  when  he,  too,  wore  so  fair  a  guise,  and  might 
impart  a  zestful  relish  of  the  resemblance. 

"  An'  then  Ad'licia,  she  kem  hyar  when  her  mo 
ther,  my  sister  Amandy,  died.  My  sister  hed  mar 
ried  a  second  time,  a  mighty  mean  man,  an'  whenst 
I  tuk  Ad'licia  —  she  war  'bout  three  year  old  —  I 
jes'  said,  '  Yer  mam  did  n't  hev  much  jedgmint  in 
marryin',  an'  I  reckon  ye  '11  take  the  failin'  arter 
her ;  an'  ye  '11  show  sech  jedgmint  ez  ye  kin  1'arn 
in  marryin'  nobody.'  An'  she  agreed:  she  war  n't 
very  young  at  three,  jes'  sorter  youngish  ;  an'  though 
people  mought  think  she  hed  n't  hed  a  chance  ter 
view  the  world  on  sech  a  p'int,  she  hed  her  senses 
powerful  well  in  hand.  So  we  made  a  solemn  prom 
ise.  An'  I  felt  plumb  sot  up  till  lately.  I  don't 
want  nare  one  of  'em  ter  marry.  A  fust-rate  man 
ain't  wuth  a  fifth-rate  woman,  much  less  a  fust-rate 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  31 

woman,"  he  declared  chivalrously.  "  Leastwise,  ye 
can't  git  the  gals'  daddies  ter  think  so.  An'  now, 
jes'  ez  we  air  all  so  sot  an'  stiddy  in  our  minds, 
hyar  kerns  this  widower,  this  perfessional  widower ; 
fur  he  don't  show  no  signs  o'  beiii'  nuthin'  else  !  An' 
we  dunno  whether  he  kerns  ter  listen  at  Julia  hold 
her  tongue,  or  Ad'licia  talk,  or  hear  Luther  praise 
God  fur  the  weather,  or  ter  git  my  best  advice  on 
politics.  We  'd  do  ennything  ter  git  shet  o'  him. 
He  mought  hev  air  one  o'  the  gals,  ef  he  'd  only 
say  which." 

And  he  chuckled  as  he  gazed  into  the  fire. 

"  What 's  his  business  ?  Farmer,  I  suppose  ?  " 
suggested  Kenniston. 

"  Naw ;  he  hev  got  a  leetle  store,  —  powerful  lee- 
tie  trade,  'count  o'  the  cross-roads  store  at  the  set- 
tlemint,  though  he  trades  right  smart.  Liberal,  too. 
He  '11  take  ennything,  —  load  o'  corn,  load  o'  wood, 
sech  like  heavy  truck  ez  thar  ain't  no  sale  fur 
ginerally,  'count  o'  the  wagonin'  an'  roads  bein' 
so  heavy.  Whenst  you-uns  git  yer  railroad  put 
through," — he  gave  him  a  rallying  wink  at  this 
aberration,  as  he  esteemed  the  projected  narrow 
gauge,  —  "  ye  '11  mend  all  that." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  you  '11  be  in  touch  with  the  markets 
of  the  world  then,"  said  Kenniston,  with  his  satiric 
laugh.  "  Only  a  little  question  of  freight  rates  be 
tween  you  and  New  York." 

This  sarcasm  did  not  cut  so  deeply  as  one  might 
imagine.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  insert 
the  idea  —  save  with  an  axe  —  into  old  "  Lucy  " 


32  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Tems's  brain  that  New  York  was  more  important 
and  metropolitan  than  Colbury,  or  essentially  more 
remote. 

"  This  Lorenzo  Taft  ain't  been  so  sociable  till 
lately.  That 's  what  makes  me  call  him  a  perfes- 
sional  widower,"  old  Terns  went  on,  with  a  peculiar 
relish  for  the  designation.  "  He  hev  two  childern, 
gal  an'  boy,  an'  the  gal  hev  been  with  her  gran'mam 
down  in  Blount  County  till  the  old  woman  died ; 
an'  now  he  hev  got '  Sis,'  ez  he  calls  her,  with  him, 
an'  he  wants  a  step-mammy  fur  her!  He  ain't 
a-courtin'  a  wife  fur  hisself ;  he  's  courtin'  a  step- 
mammy  fur  4  Sis.'  An'  in  course  his  sheep's-eyes 
would  go  cornsider'ble  furder  with  the  gals  than 
they  do,  ef  they  did  n't  know  that  he  air  jes'  out 
a-trappiii'  fur  '  Sis.'  " 

"  Waal,"  said  Adelicia  suddenly,  "  I  dunno  ez 
folks  oughter  think  hard  of  him  fur  that,  'kase  '  Sis ' 
did  look  powerful  lonesome  an'  pitiful,  settin'  up  all 
by  herself  'mongst  all  the  men  at  the  store." 

"  Thar,  now !  "  exclaimed  Cap'n  Lucy  triumph 
antly,  "  makin'  excuses  fur  folks  agin !  I  told  ye 
ez  ye  could  n't  hold  out  till  bedtime  'thout  excusin' 
this  one  fur  that,  an'  t'other  one  fur  which." 

"Waal,"  said  Adelicia,  "it's  a  mighty  late  bed 
time." 

She  was  rolling  up  the  coat  as  carefully  as  if  a 
first-class  triumph  of  needlework  had  been  accom 
plished  upon  it. 

"  '  Sis  '  did  n't  'pear  ter  me  ter  need  enny  lookin' 
arter  whenst  I  seen  her,"  said  old  Terns  heartlessly. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  33 

"  She  'peared  ter  be  some  fower  or  five  hunderd 
year  old,  an'  stiddy  an'  settled  ter  accommodate." 

"  She  be  "bout  ten  year  old,"  said  Adelicia 
gravely. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Cap'n  Lucy,  with  a  twinkle  of 
the  eye,  "  I  do  wonder  ef  that  thar  pernicious  way 
o'  makin'  excuses  fur  folks's  faults  would  hold  out 
ef  Ad'licia  war  ter  set  out  ter  be  somebody's  step- 
mammy  !  " 

Luther  suddenly  held  up  his  hand  with  an  intent 
look,  bespeaking  silence.  The  rain  was  coming. 
From  far  away  one  could  hear  the  steady  march  of 
its  serried  columns,  now  amongst  the  resonant  woods, 
and  now  through  open  spaces,  and  again  threading 
narrow  ravines.  A  bugle  blast  of  the  wind  issued 
suddenly  from  a  rocky  defile,  and  was  silent  again, 
and  once  more  only  the  sounds  of  that  resistless 
multitudinous  advance  pervaded  the  mountain  wil 
derness.  Already  the  influx  of  air  from  the  open 
door  was  freighted  with  dank  suggestions  commin 
gled  with  the  odor  of  dust.  For  a  panic  was  astir 
in  the  myriad  particles  that  lay  in  heaps  in  the 
sandy  road ;  they  seemed  to  seek  a  futile  flight  in 
some  inadequate  current  of  the  air,  and  were  wafted 
a  few  paces  along,  to  fall  again  upon  the  ground, 
and  finally  to  be  annihilated  by  the  vanguard  of  the 
great  body  of  the  torrents.  A  tentative  drop  here 
and  there  on  the  clapboards  of  the  roof,  increasing 
presently  to  a  brisk  fusillade,  and  then  all  individ 
uality  of  sound  was  lost  in  the  tumultuous  down 
pour  under  which  the  cabin  rocked. 


34  SIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  he  had  seldom  been 
brought  into  such  close  intimacy  with  the  elements 
that  Kenniston  found  little  sleep  that  night  under 
the  reverberating  roof.  He  could  touch  it  by  lift 
ing  his  hand  in  the  tiny  shed-room  beneath  the 
eaves,  which  was  devoted  to  his  use  as  a  guest- 
chamber.  At  arm's  length,  too,  with  but  the  thin 
barrier  of  the  clapboards  intervening,  was  the  wild, 
riotous  rain.  He  seemed  in  the  midst  of  its  contin 
uous  beat  and  thunderous  splash,  as  its  aggregations 
swept  from  the  eaves  into  the  gullies  below,  so  en 
tirely  did  its  turmoils  dominate  his  senses.  Now 
and  again  the  shrill  fanfare  of  the  triumphant  wind 
sounded,  and  a  broad,  innocuous  glare  of  sheet 
lightning  illumined  the  little  apartment  through 
the  multitudinous  crevices  between  its  unplastered 
boards  ;  for  this  addition  to  the  house  was  not  of 
logs,  like  the  main  structure.  He  could  see,  too,  at 
intervals,  as  he  lay  in  indescribable  discomfort  on 
the  top  of  the  big  feather  bed,  the  landscape  with 
out  through  the  open  door ;  for  the  heavy,  close  air 
had  induced  him  to  set  it  ajar.  He  found  a  certain 
interest  for  a  time  in  these  weird  illuminations  :  the 
great  mountains,  slate-tinted  in  the  searching  yellow 
glare,  with  clouds  of  white  vapor  hanging  about 
them;  the  rain,  visible  in  myriads  of  fine  lines 
drawn  perpendicularly  from  zenith  to  valley,  ap 
parently  stationary,  as  if  it  were  some  permanent 
investiture  of  the  atmosphere ;  the  little  porch, 
low-browed,  on  which  the  door  of  his  room  opened, 
and  which  leaked  with  a  heavy,  irregular  pattering. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  35 

Half  a  dozen  dogs  were  lying  there,  having  taken 
refuge  from  the  storm.  A  scraggy  cedar-tree  close 
beyond  held  down  its  moisture-freighted  branches, 
and  amongst  them  he  saw  once  a  great  owl,  busi 
ness  interrupted  for  the  nonce,  staring  at  him  with 
big  yellow  eyes,  as  it  ruffled  up  its  feathers  against 
the  rain. 

He  was  conscious  of  sustaining  the  steady,  sedate 
gaze  of  the  nocturnal  fowl  even  when  the  whole 
world  would  disappear  as  with  a  bound  into  the  depths 
of  darkness.  As  if  the  sound  had  been  restrained  by 
the  presence  of  light,  the  tumult  of  rain  would  seem 
redoubled  upon  the  roof.  The  unmannerly  ele 
ments  evidently  disturbed  no  one  else  in  the  house. 
It  was  as  silent  as  if  no  life  beat  within  the  walls. 
The  very  dogs  were  still.  One  of  them,  a  fat,  cal 
low  fellow,  with  an  ill-appreciated  sense  of  a  joke, 
roused  them  once  by  facetiously  snapping  at  a  sleep 
ing  confrere's  tail,  set  wagging  by  the  propitious 
happenings  of  dreamland.  Whether  it  was  that 
he  had  interrupted  the  gustful  gnawing  of  a  vision 
ary  bone,  or  simply  that  his  elder  was  of  a  vicious 
temperament,  he  was  soundly  cuffed,  rolled  over  on 
his  fat,  round  sides,  and  sent  shrieking  under  the 
house.  He  came  out  after  some  indulgence  of  vocal 
woe  on  a  piercing  key,  and,  perceiving  Kenniston, 
sought  to  make  his  acquaintance.  Being  a  shaggy 
shepherd,  his  rain-laden  hair  diffused  a  peculiarly 
canine  odor  throughout  the  little  room  ;  he  was  used 
to  rebuffs,  and  it  required  but  a  single  tweak  of  the 
ear  to  send  him,  depressed  and  discouraged,  to  pro 
saic  slumbers  among  his  kindred. 


36  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

The  lightnings  failed.  The  world  was  plunged 
into  unbroken  gloom.  The  hours  wore  on  into  the 
deeps  of  the  night.  Once,  as  Kenniston  was  on  the 
point  of  losing  himself  in  sleep,  he  heard  a  shrill 
blood-curdling  cry,  searching  out  every  nerve  of  re 
pulsion  in  his  body,  —  a  panther  shrieking  from  the 
terraces  of  his  castle  in  the  air.  Even  the  fierce 
dogs,  lifting  their  heads  to  listen,  only  whined  and 
huddled  closer  together.  When  at  last  he  dreamed, 
his  mind  clung  close  to  the  theme  that  held  his  wak 
ing  thoughts.  It  was  of  processioning  those  wild 
acres  of  mountain  fastnesses,  and  the  serpentine 
lengths  of  the  surveyor's  chain  seemed  alive  as  the 
chain-bearers  dragged  it  writhing  through  the  grass. 
And  again  he  was  taking  off  the  hospitable  roof 
beneath  which  he  slept,  and  riving  off  the  doors, 
and  somehow  Cap'n  Lucy  was  curiously  helpless  to 
resist  this  desolation  of  his  roof-tree.  But  the  man 
in  the  corner  was  plotting  against  him,  and  seeking 
to  excite  public  animosity  ;  and  while  he  was  busy 
in  counterplotting,  suddenly  Julia  appeared,  with  a 
strange  face,  subtle  and  insidious  and  sinister,  lead 
ing  the  panther  which  he  had  heard  filling  the  night 
with  terror.  And  he  was  frightened,  and  awoke. 


II. 


LORENZO  TAFT  met  the  rain  halfway  to  his  own 
dwelling.  He  pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes  and 
bent  to  his  mare's  neck  before  its  fury,  and  al 
though  the  animal  now  and  again  swerved  from  the 
bridle  path  at  the  glare  of  the  lightning,  she  car 
ried  her  master  steadily  and  fleetly  enough ;  and  it 
was  not  far  from  his  reckoning  of  the  hour  that 
they  should  pass  the  Lost  Time  mine  when  a  broad 
illumination  of  the  skies  revealed  the  great  portal, 
gauntly  yawning  in  the  side  of  the  range,  where  a 
tunnel  had  been  made  in  the  search  for  silver,  and 
abandoned.  He  pulled  up  his  dripping  steed  and 
seemed  to  listen.  Water  had  risen  within,  evi 
dently,  from  the  infinite  enmeshment  of  the  under 
ground  streams  and  springs  that  vein  the  great 
range ;  he  heard  it  lapping  upon  the  rocks,  as 
it  came  pouring  along  its  channel  in  the  tunnel. 
It  played  around  the  mare's  fetlocks,  and  now 
and  again  the  animal  fretfully  lifted  her  forefoot. 
Another  flare  of  the  weird,  unearthly  yellow  light, 
more  lingering,  brighter,  than  the  last,  showed  the 
swift  clear  flow  of  the  current,  the  great  bleak  beet 
ling  rocks  of  the  oval  aperture,  the  trees  on  the 
mountain  side  high  above  it,  and  beyond,  three 
hundred  yards  or  so,  a  little  log  cabin  set  upon  the 


38  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

slope,  which  was  a  gentler  declivity  here,  sur 
rounded  by  a  few  acres  of  cornfield,  and  the  appur 
tenances  of  beehives,  hen-house,  and  rickety  barn 
common  to  the  humbler  dwellings  of  the  region. 
He  could  even  see,  between  the  house  and  the  steep 
ascent  immediately  behind  it,  the  far-away  crags, 
as  the  range  rounded  out,  glimmering  in  the  light 
ning  down  the  vista  thus  formed. 

It  seemed  the  simplest  of  domestic  establish 
ments,  and  a  forlorn  little  family  group  met  his  gaze 
as  he  opened  the  door  and  stepped  within.  The  fire 
had  dwindled  to  a  few  embers ;  a  flickering  flare 
from  a  handful  of  chips  flung  on  in  anticipation  of 
his  return,  heralded  by  the  sound  of  the  mare's 
hoofs,  showed  the  unplastered  log  room  of  the  re 
gion,  more  unkempt  than  is  usual,  and  betraying  the 
lack  of  a  woman's  hand.  The  slight  preparation 
for  his  reception  was  not  the  work  of  a  boy  of 
twelve,  who  sat  soundly  sleeping  in  a  splint-bot 
tomed  chair,  his  whole  attitude  one  of  somnolent 
collapse,  as  if  he  had  not  a  bone  in  his  body,  his 
round  face  white  and  freckled,  his  curly  red  hair 
growing  straight  up  from  his  forehead,  his  slightly 
open  red  mouth  of  a  merry  carelessness  of  expres 
sion  even  in  unconsciousness.  On  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fireplace  a  little  girl  was  staidly  seated. 
She  had  a  narrow,  white,  formal  little  face ;  thin 
light  brown  hair,  short  and  straight  and  smooth, 
put  primly  back  behind  her  ears ;  a  small  mouth, 
with  thin,  precise  lips ;  a  meek  eye,  with  a  gentle 
lash.  Her  father  looked  at  her  with  a  sentiment 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  39 

of  awe  rising  in  his  stalwart  breast.  "  Consider' ble 
older 'n  the  Newnited  States,  an'  I  hed  ruther 
keep  house  for  a  regiment  o'  pa'sons,"  he  com 
mented  silently. 

She  wore  a  checked  homespun  dress,  spotlessly 
clean,  a  dark  calico  apron,  high-necked,  buttoned 
to  the  nape  in  the  back,  shoes  and  blue  stockings, 
which  are  rare  among  the  children  in  the  mountains 
at  this  season ;  and  despite  her  limited  inches,  she 
was  as  formidable  a  spectacle  of  perfect  precocity 
and  prim  perfection  as  ever  a  man  who  liked  to 
go  his  own  gait  had  the  pleasure  of  looking  upon. 
Miss  Cornelia  Taf t  was  entirely  competent '  to  see 
all  that  might  be  going  on  in  her  small  world,  and 
she  had  brought  her  own  unalterable  standards 
with  her,  in  her  pocket  as  it  were,  by  which  to 
judge. 

There  was  a  little  unacknowledged  weariness  in 
her  expression,  and  a  certain  stiffness  as  she  got 
down  out  of  her  chair,  which  intimated  that  she  was 
not  quite  equal  physically  to  her  resolution  to  sit  up 
for  him.  He  was  about  to  requite  this  after  the 
usual  manner  of  those  favored  with  this  feminine 
attention,  but  she  had  begun  to  rake  out  some  Irish 
potatoes  roasting  in  the  ashes,  and  Lorenzo  Taft's 
remonstrance  was  subdued  from  his  original  inten 
tion. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Sis,"  he  said,  "why  n't  ye  go  ter 
bed  ?  Ye  must  n't  sit  up  waitin'  fur  me  this  time 
o'  night.  I  don't  eat  no  second  supper,  nohow." 

But  he  was  presently  disposing  of  the  refection 


40  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

of  potatoes,  corn  bread,  and  buttermilk  in  great 
gulps,  while  she  looked  on  with  her  inexpressive, 
unastonished  eye. 

"Why  n't  ye  make  Joe  go  to  bed?"  he  de 
manded,  his  mouth  full,  as  he  nodded  at  the  sleep 
ing  boy. 

The  vaguest  expression  of  prim  repudiation  was 
on  her  face.  "  He  'lowed  he  war  n't  sleepy,"  she 
said,  with  some  capacity  for  sarcasm.  She  would 
have  mended  Joe  as  if  he  were  a  rag  doll,  but  for 
his  stalwart  resistance.  She  did  not  expend  her 
self  in  vain  regrets.  She  had  cast  him  and  his 
tatters  off  forever,  unless  indeed  he  should  come 
some  day  and  sue  to  be  made  whole. 

"  Waal,"  said  Lorenzo  Taft,  bending  a  perplexed 
brow  upon  her,  "  jes'  let  him  be,  an'  ye  go  on  up- 
steers  an'  go  to  bed.  Ye  '11  never  grow  no  higher 
ef  ye  set  up  so  late  in  the  night." 

She  turned  obediently  toward  the  stairs,  or 
rather  a  rude  ladder  that  ascended  to  the  loft, 
while  Lorenzo  Taft  paced  back  and  forth  in  the 
room  with  a  long,  elastic  stride,  troubled  and  ab 
sent,  and  only  conscious  at  the  last  moment  that  it 
was  a  look  of  the  keenest  curiosity  that  the  little 
girl's  placid  eyes  cast  down  upon  him  as  she  disap 
peared  amongst  the  shadows  of  the  loft. 

He  stood  still,  disproportionately  perturbed,  it 
might  seem.  Then  he  sought  to  reassure  himself. 

"I  reckon  I  ain't  much  similar  ter  old  Mis' 
Jinaway,  nohow ;  an'  ez  she  air  useter  a  quiet,  per- 
cise  old  'oman's  ways  an'  talk,  I  mus'  seem  toler'ble 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  41 

comical,  bein'  so  big  an'  hearty,  an'  take  big  bites, 
an'  talk  loud,  an'  ride  in  the  storm."  He  paused 
in  the  midst  of  his  sophistry.  Her  look  was  so  in 
telligent,  so  keenly  inquisitive.  "  She 's  mighty 
leetle,  but" — his  caution  had  returned  —  "a 
ca'tridge  o'  giant  powder  ain't  so  powerful  bulky. 
I  hev  got  ter  git  somebody  ter  take  keer  o'  her,  — 
or  ter  take  keer  o'  me,  sure !  " 

If  the  small  Cornelia  Taft's  curiosity  had  been 
excited  by  what  she  had  already  observed,  she 
would  have  thought  his  subsequent  proceedings 
very  strange  indeed,  could  she  have  supervised  them. 
But  her  placid  little  eyelids  had  closed  at  last  upon 
her  calm  little  eyes,  and  a  very  few  gentle  homesick 
tears  for  a  place  where  they  washed  the  dishes,  and 
swept  the  floors,  and  slept  in  an  airy  room  with  the 
firelight  flickering,  and  mended  their  garments; 
if  amusement  must  be  had,  what  gay  times  she 
and  her  grandmother  had  enjoyed,  to  be  sure,  when 
they  raced  as  they  knit  their  stockings,  pausing 
twice  or  thrice  in  the  evening  to  compare  speed  and 
measure  the  accomplished  hose!  A  very  strange 
man  she  thought  her  father,  and  she  would  have 
thought  him  stranger  still  if  she  could  have  seen 
him  presently  take  a  lantern  and  cross  the  open 
passage  to  the  other  room  of  the  log  hut,  which 
served  as  store.  There  were  embers  here  as  well, 
and  as  he  locked  the  door  again  they  showed  the 
array  of  gear  needed  for  a  country  trade,  —  knives, 
shoes,  shears,  saddles,  harness,  rope,  a  little  calico, 
sugar,  coffee,  salt,  and  iron.  There  was  a  counter 


42  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

at  one  side,  on  which  stood  the  scales.  It  seemed  a 
very  commonplace  structure,  unless  one  should  see 
him  open  a  door  into  it  on  the  inner  side.  This 
was  not  a  cupboard,  which  might  have  been  con 
venient  ;  it  gave  upon  a  door  in  the  puncheon  floor, 
which,  lifted,  showed  a  ladder  leading  to  the  cellar. 
He  went  through,  feet  foremost,  closing  the  counter 
door  after  him  as  well  as  the  other.  He  lighted 
his  lantern,  not  with  a  coal  or  flint,  as  is  usual, 
but  with  the  more  modern  and  progressive  match, 
and  then  down  the  ladder  he  went  very  warily,  for 
it  was  a  somewhat  slight  structure,  and  he  was  a 
heavy  man.  It  could  be  removed,  too,  in  a  mo 
ment,  which  added  to  its  insecurity. 

And  still  there  was  naught  apparent  which  could 
justify  so  much  caution.  The  lantern,  now  fairly 
alight,  revealed  empty  boxes  and  barrels,  and  a 
scanty  reserve  of  stock  similar  to  the  goods  which 
the  shelves  above  showed.  He  pushed  a  few  boxes 
aside,  took  down  a  board  or  two  of  the  wall  in  the 
rear,  and  in  another  moment  was  in  one  of  the 
tunnels  of  the  abandoned  mine,  the  wall  replaced 
behind  him. 

Surely,  a  man  was  never  more  ingeniously  secure, 
he  thought,  as  he  went  at  a  brisk  pace  into  the 
depths  of  the  mountain,  and  it  would  all  be  jeop 
ardized  by  the  influx  into  the  Cove  of  a  horde  of 
tourists  and  summer  sojourners  that  the  projected 
hotel  might  bring.  No  exclusive  aristocrat  was 
ever  more  jealous  of  his  seclusion  from  the  roving 
of  his  kind  than  Lorenzo  Taft.  And  then  this 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  43 

danger  of  his  own  household,  his  own  hearthstone  ; 
this  silent,  disapproving,  prying,  perfect  little  prim 
ness  ! 

He  crossed  water  once.  He  never  crossed  it 
without  remembering  the  instinct  of  the  deer  pur 
sued  to  put  a  running  stream  between  its  flight  and 
the  hunter.  The  rivulet,  very  narrow  here,  flowed 
in  a  rocky  bed  at  a  swift  rate.  This  was  a  tribu 
tary  of  the  larger  torrent  that  had  flooded  the 
mine,  and,  together  with  the  small  output  and  the 
inadequate  prospect,  had  caused  the  work  to  be 
abandoned.  Two  of  the  miners  had  been  drowned 
in  the  catastrophe,  and  this  circumstance  had  doubt 
less  contributed  to  the  solitude  of  the  locality.  It 
was  a  place  of  strange  sounds,  with  the  forever- 
echoing  rocks,  and  few  curiosity  seekers  had  ever 
ventured  farther  than  the  great  outer  portal  of  the 
Lost  Time  mine.  Into  this  tunnel,  with  which 
Taft  had  joined  a  tunnel  of  his  own  secret  work 
manship,  the  water  had  not  risen,  albeit  the  lower 
excavations  were  all  submerged  ;  and  as  he  went 
dry  shod,  he  heard  the  deft  patter  of  his  tread  on 
the  well-beaten  "  dirt  "  path  multiplied  behind  him 
by  the  echoes  into  the  semblance  of  many  a  follow 
ing  footfall.  This  illusion  might  have  jarred  less 
accustomed  nerves,  but  Taft  had  heard  this  impal 
pable  pursuit  so  long  with  impunity  that  he  was 
hardly  likely  to  heed  it  now.  Something,  however, 
that  he  sometimes  heard,  and  that  was  more  often 
silent,  he  had  learned  to  watch  for,  to  fearfully 
mark  the  sound  when  it  came,  and  to  note  its 


44  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

absence  with  a  shuddering  sense  of  vacancy  and  a 
chill  suspense.  It  was  like  the  sound  of  a  pick 
continually  striking  into  the  earth,  not  with  a  hur 
ried  or  fitful  stroke,  but  timed  with  a  composed 
regularity  characteristic  of  the  steady  workman. 
Sometimes  it  seemed  far  away,  sometimes  imme 
diately  overhead,  and  again  just  underfoot.  Those 
who  heard  it  accounted  for  it  readily  enough.  Who 
had  set  the  ghastly  superstition  afoot  none  might 
say,  but  the  belief  widely  obtained  that  the  two 
lost  miners  thus  wrought  continually  in  the  depths 
of  the  mountain,  digging  the  graves  that  had  been 
denied  them  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  To  Taft, 
the  familiar  of  the  dark,  the  weird,  and  the  un 
canny,  it  seemed  a  likely  enough  solution  of  the 
mystery,  and  he  nothing  doubted  it.  He  could  not 
account  for  another  phenomenon,  not  so  frequent, 
but  often  enough  forced  upon  his  contemplation 
to  bring  him  to  an  anxious  pause.  Sometimes  he 
heard,  or  thought  he  heard,  voices,  loud,  resound 
ing,  distinct,  —  hailing,  hallooing  voices ;  and  again 
so  uncertain,  so  commingled,  were  these  vibrations, 
so  repetitious  and  faint,  that  he  could  not  be  sure 
that  they  were  not  merely  echoes,  —  echoes  of  the 
talk  and  mirth  of  the  group  of  moonshiners  whom 
another  turn  of  the  underground  passage  showed 
him  at  their  work  in  the  broader  space  of  a  cham 
ber  of  the  mine,  where  the  great  timbers  still 
stanchly  supported  the  roofing  masses  of  earth,  and 
the  walls  of  sandstone  bore  freshly  the  gaunt 
wounds  that  the  blasting  had  wrought  in  their  rug 
ged  sides. 


THE  gloom  of  the  place  had  a  unique  under 
ground  quality  which  could  hardly  be  compassed 
elsewhere  by  the  mere  exclusion  of  daylight.  The 
yellow  flare  from  the  open  door  of  the  furnace 
seemed  chiefly  to  serve  to  render  visible  the  sur 
rounding  darkness.  The  masses  of  shadow  were 
densely  black.  Where  the  firelight  smote  them 
they  merged  reluctantly  into  expositions  of  the 
darkest  possibilities  of  umber  and  burnt  sienna  and 
dismal  gradations  of  duskier  brown.  The  clay 
wall  facing  the  furnace  door  at  one  side,  how 
ever,  glowed  with  the  reddest  of  terra-cotta  hues. 
Against  this  the  group  was  outlined,  motionless, 
all  eyes  turning  upon  the  black  aperture  of  the 
tunnel  along  which  the  faint,  wan  gleams  of  Taft's 
lantern  had  preceded  him.  The  moonshiners  had 
an  air  of  pretermitting  work,  and  the  expectant, 
receptive  attention  which  characterizes  the  secluded 
in  colloquy  with  him  from  the  world  without. 

There  is  a  certain  rapacity  in  this  demand  for 
developments.  Withdrawn  from  the  scene  of  ac 
tion,  it  seems  as  if  anything  definite  and  decisive 
might  have  happened  in  the  interval  of  time,  when 
perhaps  only  combinations  of  causes  are  slowly  and 
imperceptibly  tending  toward  the  precipitation  of 


46  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

the  event.  When  the  full-voiced  greetings  were 
supplemented  by  the  inquiry  for  the  news,  Lorenzo 
Taft  stood  for  a  moment  at  a  loss,  conscious  of  a 
need  of  caution  in  the  recital  of  his  suspicions  and 
doubts  and  indeterminate  fears.  He  sat  down  on 
the  side  of  a  barrel,  looking,  in  the  flickering  dusk 
and  the  vivid  gleams  from  the  furnace,  like  some 
able-bodied,  overgrown  Bacchus,  with  his  flowing 
yellow  hair  and  beard  definite  against  the  terra 
cotta  wall  behind  him,  his  reckless,  jovial  blue  eyes 
full  of  life  and  vigor,  and  his  fair  and  florid  com 
plexion  wearing  already  the  deeper  flush  painted 
by  brush  whiskey. 

"Idunno  'bout  news,  edzac'ly."  He  hesitated, 
wiping  his  mouth  with  the  back  of  his  hand,  as  if 
he  could  hardly  summarize  so  few  experiences  and 
impressions  for  the  benefit  of  the  debarred. 

"  That 's  always  the  way,"  sarcastically  ex 
claimed  Jack  Espey,  a  slight,  eager-eyed  young 
man,  the  impersonation  of  impatience.  "  'Renzo 
don't  never  hear  no  news  in  the  Cove  ;  leastwise  " 
—  he  cast  a  keen,  significant  glance  at  the  others  — 
"  none  ez  he  air  aimin'  ter  tell  agin." 

The  facial  expression  of  the  other  men  changed 
subtly,  unmistakably.  Some  strong  sentiment  of 
disaffection  had  evidently  been  set  astir  in  Taft's 
absence.  As  he  slowly  recognized  it,  a  deep,  dis 
mayed  gravity  fell  upon  his  features,  which  were 
as  incongruous  with  his  expression  for  the  moment 
as  if  they  were  merely  component  parts  of  some 
jovial  mask.  It  was  a  petrified  look,  as  if  he  had 
suddenly  beheld  the  Gorgon  Head  of  Trouble. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.          .  47 

The  other  men  said  nothing,  maintaining  a  sort 
of  wary  attention  inimical  in  its  close  receptivity. 
The  suggestion  had  communicated  instant  fire  to 
certain  inflammable  suspicions  and  antagonisms. 
All  the  work  about  the  still  was  given  over  for  the 
nonce,  and  Lorenzo  Taf t  had  a  certain  overpower 
ing  realization  of  being  brought  suddenly  to  judg 
ment,  without  a  moment  in  which  to  take  account 
with  himself  and  his  agile  duplicities  and  perfect 
his  defense. 

There  were  four  of  the  moonshiners  besides 
Lorenzo  Taft.  Their  aspect  had  so  little  in  com 
mon  that  one  might  wonder  at  the  cohesive  prop 
erty  of  the  enterprise  to  hold  them  together,  were 
it  not  for  the  opportunity  of  profit  so  rare  in  these 
mountain  communities,  and  the  great  and  ever- 
present  dangers  of  the  law  that  served  to  cement 
their  association  when  once  they  had  fallen  into 
the  toils  of  the  illicit  worm.  One,  in  his  shirt 
sleeves,  was  somewhat  beyond  middle  age,  bearded 
and  grizzled  and  grave,  with  a  sedate  eye,  callous 
hands,  and  a  steady  look  as  if  he  might  be  trusted 
to  do  a  good  deal  of  hard  work  by  sheer  force  of 
industrial  momentum  when  once  about  it.  He  had 
distilled  much  liquor  against  the  law  in  his  time, 
and  even  had  an  experience  in  such  matters  ante 
dating  the  unpopular  whiskey  tax.  His  was  a 
sober,  trusted  judgment  in  questions  of  pomace 
and  mash,  singlings  and  doublings,  and  the  suc 
cesses  of  the  manufacture  were  his.  Another  had 
a  downy  lip,  full,  petulant,  passionate ;  a  large 


48  HIS    VANISHED  STAR.* 

blue  eye,  deeply  bloodshot ;  a  tousle  of  light 
curling  hair ;  an  overgrown,  large-jointed  look, 
—  a  mere  boy,  despite  his  thickened  utterance, 
his  shaking  hand,  and  his  frequent  reference  to  a 
jug  down  amongst  the  shadows  which  the  others 
left  almost  untouched.  A  far  more  dangerous 
personality  was  exemplified  in  the  keen-eyed  man, 
of  about  twenty-five,  called  Jack  Espey.  He 
had  a  wild,  alert,  aggressive  look,  widely  opened 
bluish-gray  eyes,  full  of  reflections  of  the  world 
without,  straight  black  hair,  a  drooping  mustache, 
a  fair  complexion,  a  square  jaw,  and  about  him 
was  the  unmistakable  intimation  of  recklessness. 
He  wore  a  white  wool  hat  set  far  back  on  his 
head,  a  blue  shirt,  and  blue  jeans  trousers,  and  he 
clasped  both  his  hands  across  one  knee  above 
his  long  spurred  boot,  while  he  sat  on  a  shelf 
of  the  rock,  half  in  the  shadow  and  half  in  the 
light.  The  gleam  fell  on  the  handle  of  the  knife 
in  his  belt  and  his  pistols,  which  he  did  not  lay 
aside  to  assist  in  the  work.  Yet  it  was  not  toward 
him  that  Taft,  surprised  and  overtaken,  cast  the 
first  covert  glance  of  anxiety  and  deprecation.  A 
smiling,  dark-eyed  gaze  fixed  upon  his  face  shook 
his  confidence,  in  that  moment  of  detection.  The 
smile  was  not  one  of  pleasure,  but  Larrabee's  eyes 
were  seldom  without  it.  It  was  tinged  with  a  sug 
gestion  of  contempt ;  it  was  habitually  slow ;  it 
seemed  rather  an  unintentional  emanation  from 
the  spirit  within  than  a  means  of  communication 
with  others  of  his  kind.  He  smiled,  as  it  were,  to 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  49 

himself.  He  had  a  pale,  clear-cut,  intelligent  face, 
with  fine  straight  features,  dark  eyes,  and  short 
auburn  hair.  He  was  about  twenty  three  or  four 
years  of  age,  lean  but  strongly  built,  and  tall,  and 
was  dressed  in  brown  jeans,  with  great  rough 
boots.  He  had  a  certain  inactive,  lounging  aspect, 
and  laid  aside  with  a  reluctant  gesture  the  worn 
New  Testament  which  he  had  been  laboriously 
reading  as  he  sat  close  to  the  door  of  the  furnace 
and  caught  its  glimmers. 

"  Naw,"  reiterated  the  keen,  eager  Espey,  with 
what  he  intended  to  be  a  sneer,  but  which  was 
instead  a  snort  of  indignation,  "  ef  'Kenzo  hears 
enny  news,  he  ain't  rememberin'  ter  sheer  it  with 
we-uns;  he  keeps  it  from  us,  moles  o'  the  yearth 
that  we  be !  " 

He  dropped  his  voice  dramatically.  The  others, 
with  a  hot  sense  of  injury,  gazed  with  glowing 
eyes  upon  Taft. 

"Why,  look-a-hyar,"  Taft  felt  impelled  to  de 
fend  himself,  "what  is  it  I  ain't  told  ez  ye  want 
ter  know  ?  " 

There  was  a  close  understanding  among  the 
"  moles  o'  the  yearth,"  for  the  united  accusation 
about  to  be  voiced  was  withheld  as  Larrabee  fixed 
his  ever-smiling  eyes  upon  him  and  held  up  his 
warning  hand. 

"  Waal,  'Renzo,  what  is  the  news  ye  hev  tole 
hyar?" 

It  was  the  pride  of  intellect  which  illumined  Lar 
rabee' s  face,  that  ineffable  sense  of  power  which  a 


50  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

conscious  mental  superiority  bestows.  The  smile 
in  his  eyes  extended  to  his  lips ;  he  laughed  a 
little,  showing  his  strong  white  teeth,  and  there 
was  something  craftily  brilliant  in  his  expression 
as  he  looked  down  and  turned  the  Testament  in 
his  hands,  and  looked  up  and  laughed  again. 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Espey  rancorously,  "  ye  pur- 
tend  ter  go  out  an'  see  nuthin'  an'  hear  nuthin'.  I 
reckon  ye  air  'feared  we  '11  git  skeered  too  easy,  an' 
light  out  an'  leave  the  still,  an'  sech  ;  so  ye  tell 
we-iins  nuthin'  'bout  sech  ez  ye  meet  up  with.  Jes' 
ondertake  ter  jedge  fur  us  an'  gin  us  no  warnin' 
nor  nuthin' "  — 

Larrabee  broke  in  suddenly  :  "  We  '11  ondertake 
ter  tell  you-uns  the  news,  'Renzo  Taft,  though  we 
do  be  '  moles  o'  the  yearth  ' !  Thar  9s  a  stranger  in 
the  Cove  !  " 

A  large,  imposing  personality  is  at  a  peculiar 
disadvantage  when  overtaken  by  disaster.  Lo 
renzo  Taft  felt  detected  in  every  fibre,  and  he  was 
conscious  of  comprising  a  good  many  pounds  avoir 
dupois  of  culprit  as  he  sat  arraigned  before  them 
all.  He  could  only  look  from  one  to  the  other  in 
flushed  doubt  and  anxiety  as  to  how  much  they 
knew  of  what  he  had  his  own  reasons  to  conceal. 

"  He  air  'bidin'  down  at  old  Lucy  Tems's  house ; 
an'  ez  ye  sot  out  ter  go  thar  this  evenin',  ye  air 
'bleeged  ter  hev  viewed  him,"  persisted  Larrabee. 

"Oh,  I  viewed  him,"  said  Lorenzo  Taft,  the 
steadiness  of  his  fixed  gaze  beginning  to  waver 
somewhat  as  he  sought  to  assume  a  more  incidental 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  51 

manner,  in  the  midst  of  his  amazement  to  hear  the 
details  of  his  visit  to  the  Terns  cabin  from  these 
"  moles  o'  the  yearth,"  miles  away  in  the  rain  and 
the  mist  and  the  darkness,  and  locked  up  in  the 
denser  medium  of  the  depths  of  the  solid  ground. 

"  I  '11  tell  ye  his  name,"  continued  Larrabee,  his 
eyes  still  smiling,  but  the  curves  of  his  mouth 
fierce,  and  his  breath  coming  fast.  "  His  name  is 
Kenn'ston,  or  sech." 

A  wild,  confusing  fear  of  supernatural  agency  in 
this  knowledge  had  begun  to  pervade  Taft's  con 
sciousness.  Then  he  caught  himself  suddenly. 

"  Ye  mus'  hev  hearn  on  him  whenst  Tie  war  hyar 
afore,"  he  said. 

"  Hyar  afore !  "  exclaimed  the  anxious-eyed  men 
in  concert. 

"  He  be  the  man  ez  'lows  ter  build  some  sort'n 
tavern  in  the  Cove,  or  sech  like.  Ye  mus'  hev 
hearn  'bout  him." 

A  silence  ensued.  "  That  war  'way  las'  year," 
the  elder  moonshiner  said  at  last. 

"  He  'pears  ter  go  powerful  slow,"  said  the  boy, 
disaffected  and  incredulous. 

As  the  grizzled  elderly  distiller  pondered  on  the 
matter,  the  perplexed  wrinkles  and  lines  of  his  worn 
face  were  painful  to  see.  "  Ye  be  right  sure  he 
ain't  no  revenuer  nor  nuthin'  ? "  he  asked  anx 
iously,  subordinating  his  own  judgment. 

"  Great  Gosh,  naw !  "  exclaimed  Taft,  with  a 
resonant,  confident  note.  This  idea,  so  at  variance 
with  his  knowledge  of  Kenniston's  plans,  had  not 


52  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

occurred  to  him.  He  broke  out  into  a  sonorous 
laugh  at  the  fears  which  for  the  first  time  he  com 
prehended.  "  Revenuer  !  "  he  cried  contemptu 
ously.  "Moonshining  would  be  a  powerful  slick 
bizness  ef  revenuers  war  sech  ez  him !  " 

The  sense  of  relief  induced  a  slackening  of 
the  tension  among  the  others.  They  too  laughed, 
albeit  a  trifle  constrainedly,  and  glanced  consciously 
from  one  to  the  other.  But  Larrabee  turned  the 
Testament  back  and  forth  doubtfully  in  his  hands, 
and  asked  suddenly,  without  looking  up,  "Then, 
why  n't  ye  tell  'bout  him  a-f ust,  ef  ye  did  n't  want 
us  not  ter  know  'bout  him,  —  jes'  ez  news  ?  " 

Taft  was  silent  for  an  instant.  But  the  sense  of 
partial  success  is  a  prophetic  element  in  the  com 
pletion  of  triumph,  and,  with  an  irreflective  dash 
at  the  nearest  means  of  exculpation  without  full 
disclosure,  he  replied  precipitately :  — 

"  News !  I  did  n't  count  him  no  news.  Sech 
ez  him  don't  count  much  whenst  a  man  's  a-goin' 
a-courtin'." 

The  silence  with  which  this  was  received  was 
expressive  of  extreme  surprise.  The  crackle  of  the 
furnace  fuel,  the  roar  of  the  flames,  the  rush  of 
the  air  along  one  of  the  unseen  shafts  near  by  that 
had  some  immediate  communication  with  the  outer 
atmosphere,  and  sustained  a  strong  current  through 
the  connecting  drift,  even  the  continuous  dripping 
from  the  worm,  each  made  itself  conspicuous  in  the 
absence  of  other  sound. 

Jack   Espey   had   suddenly  lifted   one  spurred 


HfS    VANISHED  STAR.  53 

boot  to  his  knee,  and  was  affecting  to  examine  the 
rowel.  "  Who  be  ye  a-courtin'  thar  at  old  Cap'n 
Lucy's  ?  "  he  gruffly  demanded,  but  with  an  obvi 
ous  effort  to  assume  an  off-hand  manner. 

The  steady  look  which  Larrabee  fixed  upon  Taft 
was,  evidently,  not  incidental.  The  blood  rushed  to 
Taft's  head.  He  had  not  dreamed  of  this  compli 
cation.  He  saw  that  his  answer  meant  far  more 
to  each  of  them  than  to  him.  And  yet  it  was  a 
difficult  answer  to  give.  He  could  not  even  seem 
to  hesitate,  and  he  must  needs  decide  his  fate  at 
chance  medley. 

"  Ad'licia !  "  he  blurted  out  at  a  venture.  Then, 
as  the  recollection  of  the  handsome,  silent  Julia 
came  over  him  with  the  inevitable  sense  of  compar 
ison,  a  pang  seized  his  utilitarian  heart ;  for  since 
an  excuse  for  his  silence  as  to  the  details  of  his 
visit  must  needs  be  framed,  and  a  stepmother  be 
chosen  in  such  haste,  why  could  he  not  have  be 
thought  himself  of  the  beauty  ?  The  fact  that 
others  were  touched  by  this  matter,  of  which  he  had 
so  suddenly  a  subtle  perception,  rendered  his  deci 
sion  extra  hazardous.  His  own  natural  interest, 
his  swift  regret  for  his  choice,  which  was  likely  to 
ensue  in  any  event  since  his  feelings  were  not  in 
volved,  dulled  his  observation  for  the  moment.  It 
was  the  least  fraction  of  time  which  he  had  failed 
to  improve,  but  when  his  discerning,  covert  gaze 
sought  the  faces  of  the  other  two  men  it  could  tell 
him  naught  of  what  he  wished  to  know.  Jack 
Espey  still  sedulously  examined  the  rowel  of  his 


54  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

spur  lifted  to  his  knee,  and  Larrabee's  eyes  were 
fastened  upon  the  worn  book  which  he  turned  in 
his  hands. 

"  I  reckon  I  'm  mighty  welcome  ter  my  ch'ice 
of  Ad'licia,"  Taft  said  ruef ully  to  himself.  "  Ad'- 
licia  'd  stand  no  sort'n  chance  with  young  fellers 
sech  ez  them,  alongside  o'  sech  a  lookin'  gal  ez 
Julia." 

The  instinct  strong  in  ambitious  human  nature 
to  enter  the  lists  for  a  prize  stirred  within  him, 
albeit  it  was  merely  his  own  fancy  that  rated  Julia 
at  this  phenomenal  value.  Fictitious  though  it  was, 
it  belittled  Adelicia  in  his  estimation.  However, 
the  die  was  cast.  He  had  openly  avowed  his  pref 
erence,  and  it  was  hardly  to  be  presumed  that  the 
arrogant  Julia  would  suffer  herself  to  be  second 
choice  to  one  of  her  own  household.  The  possi 
bility  of  defeat  from  any  objection  to  him  on  the 
part  of  the  lady  never  occurs  to  a  man  of  that 
type.  In  his  bluff  vanity,  a  concomitant  of  his 
other  hardy  attributes,  he  thought  he  had  only  to 
choose.  And  he  had  chosen.  He  began  to  seek 
to  reconcile  himself  to  his  selection.  It  would  not 
be  judicious  to  have  a  rivalry  in  a  matter  of  this 
sort  —  of  which  young  men  are  apt  to  make  so 
much  —  between  himself  and  members  of  his 
gang ;  more  especially  Espey,  who  was  dangerous 
because  of  his  hot  head,  and  Larrabee,  who  was 
dangerous  because  of  his  cool  head.  And  then 
Adelicia  was  of  an  easy,  acquiescent,  optimistic 
temperament,  and  was  likely  to  put  up  more  readily 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  55 

with  the  two  children,  Joe  and  Cornelia.  He  as 
tutely  reflected  that  it  would  probably  require  all 
the  optimism  attainable  in  the  Cove  to  put  up  with 
"  Sis."  He  began  to  feel  that  he  was  very  lucky, 
or  rather  instinctively  and  intuitively  sagacious,  to 
have  made  such  a  choice  at  a  snap  shot.  A  trou 
blous  household  would  the  determined  and  doubt 
less  exacting  beauty  make  of  it.  "  Sp'iled  ter 
death,  I  expec',  by  Luther  an'  old  Lucy ;  nare  one 
of  'em  dunno  how  ter  say  '  no  '  ter  nuthin'  Julia  sets 
her  head  ter,  I  reckon.  An'  I  ain't  no  young  fel 
ler,  nohow,  to  go  danglin'  arter  the  purtiest  gal  in 
the  kentry,  pickin'  out  a  second  ch'ice  fur  a  wife. 
Ad'licia  hain't  got  no  home,  bein'  jes'  Cap'n  Lucy's 
niece,  an'  I  reckon  she  'd  be  glad  an'  pleased  ter 
hev  a  house  o'  her  own,  with  nuthin'  ter  do  but  ter 
keep  blinders  on  Sis  'bout'n  the  still  an'  sech,  an' 
set  her  a-sewin'  or  a-hoein'  till  she  gits  some  growth 
an'  jedgmint."  He  began  to  pluck  up.  "  Purty 
is  ez  purty  does.  Air  one  o'  them  boys  is  welcome 
to  Julia !  " 

Then  a  sudden  thought  smote  him. 

"Tears  ter  me  I  oughter  hev  a  cornsider'ble 
gredge  agin  you-uns,"  his  big  voice  boomed  out 
with  all  its  sonorous  confidence  once  more.  "I 
kem  hyar  arter  goin',  ez  ye  knowed,  ter  Tems's,  a,n' 
durned  ef  ye  don't  haul  me  over  the  coals  like  ez 
ef  I  hed  hearn  suthin'  ez  I  did  n't  want  you-uns  ter 
know." 

"So  ye  did,  so  ye  did !  "  said  Espey  eagerly. 
"  Ye  did  n't  'low  fur  we-uns  ter  know  ez  that  man 


56  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

war  hyar  agin  surely  settin'  out  ter  build  his  tav 
ern  or  sech.  'Kase  ef  sech  a  many  folks  war  stir- 
rin'  in  the  Cove,  we-uns  would  be  'feared  they  'd 
nose  us  out  'fore  long,  an'  quit  the  still." 

Lorenzo  Taft's  face  once  more  grew  stony,  as  if 
he  beheld  some  petrifying  prospect  not  included  in 
the  range  of  vision  of  the  natural  eye. 

"  I  reckon  I  hev  got  ez  much  call  ter  be  'feared 
ez  you-uns,"  he  protested.  "  I  dunno  ez  enny  o' 
you-uns  hev  sarved  out  a  prison  term  fur  illicit  dis- 
tillin'  but  me." 

The  others  stirred  uneasily  at  the  mere  mention 
of  the  possibility,  their  faces,  stricken  with  a  deep 
gravity,  all  illumined  by  the  brilliant  flare  of  the 
flames  springing  up  anew  ;  for  the  grizzled  elderly 
man  was  busying  himself  in  replenishing-  the  fire. 
The  wall  of  red  earth  on  one  side,  on  the  other  the 
wall  of  dark  gray  rock,  alternating  with  lighter 
tints,  where  the  blastings  had  riven  its  close  tex 
ture  ;  the  heavy  supporting  timbers  made  of  great 
tree  boles  (what  sordid  translation  from  the  noble 
forests  without,  where  the  unstricken  of  their  kin 
dred  still  towered  toward  the  stars,  and  sang  with 
the  winds,  and  received  glad  gifts  from  the  seasons 
in  springing  sap  and  spreading  leaf,  in  acorn  and 
cone,  and  kept  a  covenant  with  time  registering 
the  years  in  mystic  rings  in  their  inmost  hearts  !) ; 
the  black  aperture  of  the  tunnel  on  one  hand,  and 
opposite  a  mysterious  recess  leading  beyond  ;  even 
a  rat,  and  his  elongated  shadow,  which,  augmented 
into  frightful  proportions,  sped  after  him  in  a 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  57 

mimic  chase  across  the  trampled  red  clay  floor,  — 
all  became  visible  in  detail.  The  disorder  of  the 
immediate  surroundings,  the  barrels,  the  tubs,  the 
sacks  full  of  meal,  the  great  woodpile,  the  rotting 
refuse  of  the  pomace  in  heaps  waiting  to  be  cast 
down  into  the  half-submerged  shaft  close  at  hand, 
the  copper  still,  itself,  and  the  spiral  worm  and  its 
adjuncts  made  a  definite  impression  hitherto  lost 
in  the  gloom.  The  shadows  of  the  mountaineers 
doubled  their  number,  as  they  sat,  grave  and  ab 
sorbed,  and  gazed  at  the  deep  red  and  yellow  and 
vivid  white  flare  within  the  furnace.  They  seemed 
to  wait  in  silence  until  the  ill-fitting  door  clanged 
again,  as  if  their  senses  recognized  an  added  safety 
in  the  gloom  which  was  not  approved  by  their 
judgment. 

As  the  door  closed  the  elder  distiller  spoke. 

"  I  dunno  ez  I  hanker  ter  sarve  no  prison  term," 
he  said  lugubriously.  "  An'  I  kin  see  full  plain 
ez  this  hyar  still  will  hev  ter  quit  ef  the  Cove  gits 
full  o'  valley  folks.  We-uns  will  hev  ter  move, 
sure ! " 

"Move  whar?"  demanded  Taft.  "I  been 
a-movin'  afore.  That 's  how  kem  I  lef *  Piomingo 
Cove,  whar  the  revenue  folks  knowed  me  better." 

There  was  another  long  silence. 

"  Burn  him  out !  "  exclaimed  Jack  Espey  vio 
lently,  bringing  the  foot  which  he  had  held  on  his 
knee  down  to  the  ground  with  a  vehemence  that 
made  the  spurs  jingle.  "  Let  him  move !  Burn 
his  shanty  every  time  he  gits  it  started." 


58  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Lorenzo  Taft  recoiled.  The  glimmer  from  the 
crevices  of  the  furnace  door  made  a  dull  red  twi 
light  about  him,  as  he  sat  on  the  barrel  against  the 
red  wall.  The  suggestion  was  not  new  to  his 
mind.  He  had  not  intended,  however,  that  it 
should  take  root  amongst  the  moonshiners  and 
augment  their  jeopardy.  He  thought  that,  if  he 
were  any  judge  of  character,  Kenniston  would 
soon  have  enemies  enough  here.  The  stranger 
was  already  busy  in  antagonizing  Cap'n  Lucy,  — 
an  early  collision  was  inevitable.  This  catastrophe 
to  the  building  might  be  presumed  to  be  the  natu 
ral  outcome  of  their  wrangles,  and  he  would  fain 
have  silently  awaited  this  interpretation  of  the 
event.  As  to  the  old  mountaineer  he  felt  no 
qualms  of  conscience ;  Cap'n  Lucy  was  amply  able 
to  take  care  of  himself. 

This  was  the  trend  of  Lorenzo  Taft's  plan,  — 
the  reason  of  his  avoidance  of  the  subject  of  the 
stranger.  How  or  why  his  expectation  should 
have  miscarried  he  could  not  for  the  life  of  him 
see.  The  man  had  before  been  in  the  Cove.  His 
presence  would  soon  be  an  ordinary  accepted  fact. 
Fate  merely  would  seem  to  harass  Kenniston  and 
his  plans.  Fire  is  a  dangerous  element  in  build 
ing,  nevertheless  requisite,  in  the  tinner's,  the 
plumber's,  even  the  paper-hanger's  art,  and  a  con 
flagration  in  remote  places  is  a  terrible  thing. 
Kenniston  would  become  discouraged  after  a  time, 
and  desist. 

But  Lorenzo  Taft  had  never  intended  that  this 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  59 

work  should  be  through  the  united  means  of  moon 
shiners.  Five  men  were  too  many  to  keep  the 
secrets  of  arson.  The  art  of  moonshining  is  neces 
sarily  worked  with  numbers,  but  the  fire-bug's 
must  needs  be  a  solitary  trade.  He  could  not  see 
the  rift  in  his  logic.  How  had  they  taken  the 
alarm  ? 

He  marked  with  secret  fear  how  the  suggestion 
fared.  Larrabee,  who  had  begun  again  to  read  by 
the  knifelike  gleam  from  the  crevice  of  the  furnace 
door,  caught  upon  the  page  on  his  knee,  as  he  sat 
close  beside  it,  looked  up  with  a  keen,  pondering 
face,  his  finger  still  on  the  line  along  which  it  was 
wont  to  guide  his  wavering  comprehension.  Surely 
he  found  no  thoughts  in  its  wake  responsive  to  the 
idea  now  astir  in  his  active,  untaught  brain.  Law- 
breaking  is  a  progressive  evil.  If  he  had  not  been 
engaged  in  the  crime  of  illicit  distilling,  —  which 
has,  however,  its  apologists  from  the  mere  stand 
point  of  economics,  who  plead  the  inherent  right 
of  a  man  to  use  his  own  corn  and  fruit  to  serve 
his  own  advantage,  —  this  further  iniquity  of  the 
destruction  of  the  property  of  another  could  not 
have  found  lodgment  in  his  consideration,  for  he 
was  not  naturally  a  cruel  man,  nor  wicked.  But 
in  the  depths  of  the  earth,  working  at  an  unlawful 
vocation,  in  jeopardy  of  his  liberty  and  in  fear 
of  his  life,  viewing  the  world  only  in  transient 
glimpses  in  the  midst  of  a  backwoods  community, 
and  sustaining  in  effect  an  assumed  character, 
that  of  a  slothful  farmer,  an  ignorant  man's  mind, 


60  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

however  good  the  native  essence,  is  not  likely  to 
develop  fairly ;  and  he  may  read  the  New  Testa 
ment,  as  indeed  those  wiser  and  better  than  he 
have  done,  as  a  matter  of  literary  interest  and 
excitement,  with  not  a  thought  of  personal  appli 
cation. 

The  half-drunken  boy  pulled  himself  out  of  his 
semi-recumbent  position  on  the  floor. 

"  That 's  the  dinctum,  by  Gawd  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
his  solemn  red  face  swollen  and  somnolent  of 
expression.  "  Burn  him  out !  Burn  him  out ! 
Make  him  move !  Kindle  up  a  leetle  hell  around 
him ! " 

He  broke  out  with  a  wild,  hiccoughing  laugh, 
singing  in  a  queer  falsetto,  — 

"  '  Lad/bug,  Ladybug,  fly  to  yer  home ! 
Yer  house  is  on  fire  '  "  — 

ending  in  a  shrill  cackle  of  derision  and  a  quaver 
ing  whoop. 

"  Shet  up,  sonny ! "  said  Copley,  the  veteran 
moonshiner,  who  seldom  interfered  save  upon  a 
question  of  work.  Even  he  turned  from  the  exami 
nation  of  the  fermentation  of  a  tub  of  mash  which 
had  been  in  question,  his  lantern  in  his  hand,  and 
a  slow  smile  of  discovery  in  the  perplexed,  anxious 
wrinkles  of  his  wooden  face.  "  I  reckon  our  fire 
would  last  ez  long  ez  his  buildin'  timber." 

There  was  not  a  protest  from  among  them.  Lo 
renzo  Taft,  more  dismayed  than  he  could  at  once 
realize,  again  marveled  how  they  had  taken  the 
sudden  alarm. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAtt.  61 

"  Ye  ain't  never  tole  me  yit  how  it  air  ez  you-uns 
fund  out,  sence  I  been  gone  this  evenin',  ez  thar 
war  a  stranger  in  the  Cove,  an'  how  ye  knowed 
't  war  this  hyar  Kenn'ston  down  at  Tems's." 

There  was  a  sudden  volley  of  laughter,  and 
Larrabee  closed  his  book  with  a  bang  of  triumph. 

"  Our  turn  now !  Jack,  Tie  wants  ter  hear  the 
news!  "  he  called  out  to  Espey. 

"  Ye  mought  ez  well  s'arch  the  hen-house  fur 
teeth  ez  ter  kem  hyar  ter  we-uns,  'way  down  in  the 
ground,  axin'  fur  news !  "  protested  Jack  sarcas 
tically. 

A  frown  was  gathering  on  Taft's  face.  He  no 
longer  had  the  incentive  to  self-command  which  the 
welfare  of  a  plot  requires.  His  plot  was  shattered ; 
the  event  was  out  of  his  control,  at  the  unco venan ted 
mercy  of  the  future.  It  was  almost  sheerly  from 
the  force  of  curiosity  that  he  pressed  the  question :  — 

"  How  did  ye  know,  ennyhow  ?  " 

Perhaps  he  might  not  have  been  enlightened  save 
for  Larrabee's  relish  for  detailing  the  circumstances, 
in  the  paucity  of  incident  and  interest  in  their  un 
derground  career. 

"  Waal,"  he  began  in  a  narrative  tone,  and  they 
all  composed  themselves  to  listen.  Even  the  elderly 
drudge  decanted  a  jug  of  doublings  into  a  keg  with 
marked  speed  of  manner,  and  shuffled  up  into  the 
circle,  where  he  seated  himself  on  a  broken-backed 
chair,  which,  since  he  could  not  lean  backward, 
rendered  him  fain  to  lean  forward,  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  —  "  waal,  this  evenin',  it  bein'  sorter  lone- 


62  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

some  down  hyar,  —  I  knowed  't  war  goin'  ter  rain, 
—  I  felt  sorter  like  't  would  be  toler'ble  pleasant 
ter  read  in  my  book." 

He  paused  in  pride ;  the  respect  of  the  others  for 
this  accomplishment  was  visible  on  their  faces ;  it 
might  be  said  to  be  almost  tangible. 

"  I  could  n't  find  it,  though,  nowhar ;  an'  I 
s'arched  an'  s'arched.  An*  suddint  I  'membered  I 
hed  lef '  it  on  the  counter  in  the  store.  So  knowin' 
't  war  nigh  dark,  an'  nobody  likely  ter  be  stirrin',  I 
went  up  inter  the  suller  an'  listened  ;  an'  ez  I  hearn 
nuthin',  I  went  up  the  ladder  inter  the  room.  Ye 
know  I  felt  plumb  safe,  fur  I  thunk  the  door  war 
locked  on  the  outside." 

"  Waal,  war  n't  it  ? "  asked  Taft,  with  a  swift 
look  of  alarm. 

"  It  war  n't  locked  at  all ;  fur,  ez  I  stood  thar,  — 
I  hed  jes'  by  accident  shet  the  door  o'  the  counter 
up  an'  the  suller,  —  the  door  of  the  room  opened." 

Taft's  breath  was  fast.  He  had  himself  unlocked 
the  door  before  he  came  down  to  the  still.  He  could 
have  sworn  it. 

"  The  door  opened,  an'  a  leetle  gal  kem  in," 
Larrabee  went  on. 

Taft's  dismayed  eyes  were  fixed  unblinkingly 
upon  him. 

"  Ye  did  n't  tell  her  nuthin' !  "  he  exclaimed,  for 
he  recognized  the  avenging  "  Sis  "  without  descrip 
tion. 

Larrabee  laughed  at  the  reminiscence  of  the  hu 
mors  of  the  situation. 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  63 

"  1  war  fit  ter  drap  down  dead  with  plumb  skeer 
at  the  sight  o'  her !  But  I  sorter  held  up  by  the 
counter,  an'  I  say,  '  I  kem  ter  see  'Renzo  Taft,  — 
yer  dad,  I  reckon.'  An'  she  owned  up  ter  it.  An' 
I  say,  '  I  'lowed  he  kep'  the  door  o'  the  sto'  locked.' 
An'  she  say,  '  He  do.  I  think  't  war  locked.'  '  I 
reckon  not,'  I  say,  '  fur  I  could  n't  hev  walked 
in  ef  he  hed  locked  it.'  An'  she  say,  '  I  could  n't 
hev  locked  it  good,  agin.  I  onlocked  it  this  evenin' 
with  my  grandmam's  key  what  I  brung  from  her 
house.'" 

Lorenzo  Taft  gasped.  The  idea  of  old  Mrs, 
Jiniway's  keys  unlocking  his  helpless  doors  gave 
him  a  sense  of  the  futility  of  concealment  from  the 
prying  feminine  eye  which  nothing  else  could  so 
adequately  compass. 

"An'  then,"  continued  Larrabee,  with  another 
burst  of  laughter,  —  Taft  did  not  think  "  Sis  "  half 
so  funny,  —  "I  axed  her  what  ailed  her  ter  open 
the  door  of  her  dad's  store  whilst  he  war  gone.  She 
looked  like  she  hed  a  mind  not  to  say  another  word. 
But  she  tuk  another  notion,  —  I  reckon  she  did  n't 
like  ter  be  faulted,  —  an'  'lowed  ez  a  strange  man 
hed  rid  by ;  an'  his  horse  bein'  tumble  fractious 
and  hard-mouthed,  the  bit  hed  bruk  in  the  critter's 
mouth,  an'  he  wanted  ter  buy  another.  So  Sis  tried 
ter  open  the  door,  and  done  it,  with  her  granny's 
key.  An'  she  sold  him  a  bit.  She  said  he  war 
powerful  saaft-spoken  an'  perlite,  ez  ef  she  'lowed 
I  war  n't!  An'  that  gin  me  a  chance  ter  ax  her 
what  he  said.  An'  she  tole  his  name,  an'  the  word 


64  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

ez  he  war  'bidin'  at  Tems's,  — fur  Sis  axed  him. 
He  got  away  with  mighty  leetle  news  that  Sis  hed 
enny  cur'osity  'bout." 

Lorenzo  Taft  listened  in  silent  despair.  Disaster 
seemed  closing  about  him.  Certainly  this  was  a 
field  for  a  stepmother.  Adelicia  could  not  take  the 
enterprising  "  Sis  "  in  hand  a  moment  too  soon. 

"  How  much  did  she  want  to  know  'bout  you-uns 
that  ye  did  n't  tell  ?  "  demanded  Taft. 

"  Waal,  I  fell  in  line,  an'  wanted  ter  buy  suthin', 
too.  I  purtended  I  wanted  ter  buy  a  pound  o'  nails. 
Sis  weighed  'em  out  fur  me,  —  gin  me  mighty  scant 
measure,  —  an'  then  I  'lowed  I  would  wait  ter  see 
you-uns,  an'  I  sot  down  in  a  cheer.  An'  she  sent 
Joe  ter  set  with  me,  —  ter  see  I  never  stole  nuthin' 
o'  the  gear,  I  reckon,  —  an'  went  off  in  the  t'other 
room  ter  spinnin',  ter  jedge  by  the  sound  o'  the 
wheel.  An'  Joe  drapped  off  ter  sleep,  an'  arter  a 
while  I  croped  down  hyar  agin.  I  reckon  she 
'lowed,  when  she  missed  me,  ez  I  got  tired  an'  went 
away." 

Taft,  anxiously  canvassing  the  probabilities, 
could  but  deem  this  more  than  likely.  He  began 
to  breathe  freely.  The  girl  was  too  young  to  criti 
cally  observe  any  departure  from  the  usual  routine, 
or  to  reason  about  the  matter.  He  doubted  if  she 
would  know  what  moonshining  was,  or  could  draw 
any  inference  from  the  fact  of  concealment  should 
their  precautions  chance  to  fall  under  her  notice. 
Not  that  he  intended,  however,  to  submit  them  to 
this  jeopardy.  The  finding  and  fitting  of  old  Mrs. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  65 

Jiniway's  key  to  the  door,  in  order  that  the  sale 
of  the  bit  might  not  be  lost,  savored  too  much  of 
a  precocious  intelligence  to  be  needlessly  trusted. 
"  Sis  will  bear  watchin',''  he  said  to  himself,  un 
aware  that  this  was  a  mutual  conclusion. 

For  early  rising  was  one  of  the  virtues  inculcated 
in  old  Mrs.  Jiniway's  rule  of  life.  Cornelia  Taft 
was  awake  betimes  the  following  morning,  —  a  dawn 
full  of  rain,  of  gray  mist  veiling  the  mountains,  of 
low  clouds,  of  heavy,  windless  air.  She  saw  its 
melancholy  gleams  through  the  crevices  of  the  clap 
boards  of  the  roof  above  her  head  and  the  batten 
shutter  close  by  her  bed.  She  knew  that  these 
fugitive  glimmers  were  brighter  than  the  dull  day 
slowly  breaking  without,  from  the  contrast  with  the 
deep  tones  of  intervenient  shadow.  She  lay  looking 
at  them  for  a  time  with  this  thought  in  her  mind, 
and  then  she  leaned  forward  and  opened  the  shutter. 
It  was  as  she  had  fancied :  the  dusk  was  almost 
visible,  like  a  brown  mist  that  seemed  subtle  and 
elusive,  and  always  vaguely  withdrew  whenever  the 
eye  would  fain  dwell  upon  it.  A  great  elm  grew 
just  without  the  window  and  hung  high  above  the 
roof.  Its  leaves  were  all  lustrous  and  deeply  green 
with  the  moisture ;  the  graceful  bole  and  branches 
were  darker  and  more  definite  than  their  wont.  A 
bird's-nest  was  in  a  crotch.  She  turned  her  head  to 
hear  the  sleepy  chirp  of  nestlings.  She  wondered 
that  Joe  had  not  rifled  it,  —  only  because  he  had  not 
observed  it,  she  felt  sure.  "  That  boy  don't  take 
notice  o'  nuthin',"  she  commented  acridly  upon  her 


66  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

senior.  The  next  moment  her  own  powers  of  obser 
vation  were  brought  into  play.  She  heard  steps, 
voices,  a  loud  laugh,  and  before  she  could  experience 
either  fear  or  surprise  very  definitely  two  or  three 
men  passed  out  of  the  house,  under  the  elm-tree, 
and  down  the  road,  vanishing  in  the  mist.  She 
recognized  one  of  them  as  the  man  who  had  so  sud 
denly  appeared  in  the  store  the  day  before  ;  another 
she  had  never  seen ;  the  third  was  very  young  and 
very  drunk. 

Despite  the  sanctimonious  atmosphere  that  had 
characterized  Mrs.  Jiniway's  domicile,  the  doings  of 
the  unregenerate  had  always  been  commented  upon 
with  the  freedom  affected  by  those  who  are  subject 
neither  to  the  temptation  nor  the  transgression. 
Few  gossips  were  better  informed  upon  current 
affairs  than  she  and  her  youthful  charge ;  and  it 
might  be  safe  to  say  that,  to  all  intents  and  pur 
poses,  a  United  States  marshal  knew  no  more 
about  the  revenue  laws  as  applied  to  illicit  distill 
ing  than  did  Miss  Cornelia  Taft. 

Her  small  mind  received  a  great  enlightenment  as 
she  watched  the  young  moonshiner  reel  down  the 
road  with  his  two  companions,  and  then  she  leaned 
forward  and  softly  and  deftly  closed  the  shutter  as 
before. 


IV. 


THE  day  proved  of  variable  mood.  The  mists 
clung  sullenly  to  slope  and  ravine  for  a  time ;  the 
clouds  hung  low,  full  of  menace ;  even  a  muttering 
of  thunder  afar  off  now  and  again  stirred  their 
dense  gray  masses.  The  veiled  mountains  were 
withdrawn  into  invisibility.  Below,  the  earth  lay 
as  if  it  consisted  only  of  dull  levels,  limited,  silent, 
comatose,  for  the  dank,  drowsy  influence  pervaded 
all  energies  alike  of  the  animate  and  the  inanimate ; 
there  was  no  sound  of  beast  or  bird,  no  stir  of  wind 
or  rustle  of  leaf,  and  a  lethargy  dulled  pulse  and 
muscle  and  brain. 

The  sunburst  came  with  the  effect  of  revelation. 
A  vague  tremor  pervaded  the  tissues  of  the  gray 
mists,  and  all  at  once  a  great  white  glory  was  on 
the  green  mountain  sides.  The  vast  spaces  to  the 
blue  zenith  were  filled  with  radiant  flying  fleecy 
forms  as  the  transfigured  vapor  took  wing.  Far  in 
the  south  the  gray  cloudage  still  held  its  consistency, 
and  trembled  with  thunder  and  sudden  elusive  pal 
pitating  veins  of  yellow  lightning.  But  the  lithe  arc 
of  a  rainbow  presently  sprang  athwart  it,  and  the 
wind  came  gayly  piping  down  the  gorge.  In  the 
actual  perceptible  jubilance  of  the  earth,  it  might 
seem  that  the  miracles  of  the  goodness  and  the 


68  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

gladness  of  the  sun  were  no  common  thing.  There 
was  a  visible  joy  among  the  leaves  as  they  fluttered 
together,  and  lifted  up  their  dank  fibres,  and  lus 
trously  reflected  the  pervasive  sheen,  and  tremu 
lously  murmured  and  chanted  in  elfin  wise  beneath 
the  breath.  How  was  it  that  the  plaining  river 
should  suddenly  find  its  melodies  again  as  if  light 
and  song  were  interdependent  ?  A  tumultuous,  rol 
licking  stave  it  flung  upon  the  air ;  and  so,  faster 
to  the  valley !  The  benignant  revivification  was  on 
the  very  flocks ;  the  dull,  submissive  sheep,  huddled 
drowsily  together  in  the  gray  menace  of  the  morn 
ing,  were  astir  once  more,  and  dispersed  here  and 
there  as  they  browsed.  Even  Luther  was  singing 
in  the  barn  as  he  mended  his  ploughgear.  All  day 
the  swift  upward  flights  of  the  sheeny  white  figures 
continued  at  intervals,  and  when  Adelicia  set  forth 
to  drive  the  cows  home,  in  the  afternoon,  only  the 
more  radiant  aspects  of  the  world  gave  token  of  the 
storm  of  the  night.  She  hardly  left  the  print  of 
her  shoe  in  the  wild  woodland  ways  through  which 
she  wandered,  so  had  the  warmth  and  the  light 
dried  the  dank  herbage.  She  was  out  betimes. 
There  was  something  in  the  long,  meditative  strolls 
that  harmonized  with  certain  moods,  and  Cap'n 
Lucy  sometimes  sourly  commented,  "  Ad'licia  gone 
ter  fotch  home  the  cows  ?  Waal,  who  be  a-goin' 
ter  fotch  home  Ad'licia  ?  " 

It  might  be  an  hour  before  Spot  would  think  of 
turning  her  crumpled  horns  homeward.  The  sun 
shone  aslant  through  the  vast  forests,  but  still  hung 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  69 

well  up  in  the  western  sky.  Through  the  deeper 
gloom  amongst  the  gigantic  trees  the  rays  hardly 
penetrated.  She  stopped  once  to  gaze  from  the 
midst  of  the  dark  green  shade  of  the  umbrageous 
tangle  at  the  strange  effects  of  the  light  where  it 
fell  into  an  open  space  cleared  long  ago  by  "  gir 
dling  "  the  trees,  which  betokened  collapsed  agri 
cultural  intentions,  for  the  ground  had  never  been 
broken  by  the  plough.  The  enormous  dead  trees 
were  still  standing,  and  time  and  rain  and  wind 
had  worn  them  to  a  pallid  whiteness.  She  could 
see  the  successive  clusters  of  columns,  one  after  an 
other,  rising  in  the  sunlight,  until  the  roofing  foli 
age  nearer  at  hand  cut  off  the  view.  To  Kennis- 

o 

ton's  cultured  experience  they  were  reminiscent  of 
the  colonnades  of  some  great  cathedral,  when  he  had 
observed  the  place  and  the  same  effect.  She  had 
naught  in  mind  to  which  she  could  compare  them, 
but  those  white,  silent,  columnated  aisles  in  the 
midst  of  the  savage  fastnesses  of  the  great  wilder 
ness  always  impressed  her  with  a  certain  solemnity 
as  she  passed,  and  she  was  wont  to  pause  to  gaze 
at  the  spot  in  awe  and  with  a  vague  sinking  of  the 
heart ;  for,  despite  her  optimism,  Adelicia's  heart 
was  not  always  light.  She  was  sensible  of  its  weight 
this  evening,  as  she  wandered  on,  leaving  the  still, 
white  sanctuary  in  the  midst  of  the  forest  glooms. 
Her  face  was  wistful  and  pale.  Her  dark  gray 
lustrous  eyes  were  dreamy.  She  walked  slowly  and 
aimlessly,  her  brown  dress  brushing  the  under 
growth  aside  with  a  gentle  murmur,  her  yellow 


70  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

calico  sunbonnet  hanging  on  her  shoulders  and 
leaving  her  auburn  head  bare.  Her  errand  was 
far  from  her  mind.  She  did  not  even  bethink  her 
self  to  call  the  cow,  until  suddenly  she  noticed  how 
high  upon  the  great  boles  of  the  trees  the  slanting 
sunlight  registered  the  waning  of  the  day.  Then, 
as  she  set  the  echoes  vibrating  with  the  long- 
drawn  cry  of  "  Soo,  cow  !  soo  !  "  she  turned  at  right 
angles,  following  the  trend  of  the  mountain  stream, 
invisible  in  the  labyrinth  of  the  woods,  but  not  far 
distant  she  knew  by  the  vague  murmur  of  waters 
borne  by  the  wind.  She  had  looked  for  no  other 
listener  than  the  somewhat  arbitrary  Spot,  who 
would  heed  or  not  as  she  listed,  and  who  might  now 
be  standing  knee-deep  in  the  limpid  ripples  near  at 
hand,  hearkening,  but  making  no  response,  intend 
ing  to  fare  home  at  her  own  good  pleasure.  But  the 
long,  musical,  mellow  call,  with  its  trailing  echoes, 
attracted  other  and  more  receptive  attention,  and  as 
Atfelicia  turned  suddenly  into  a  straighter  section 
of  the  path  she  saw  at  the  end  of  the  vista,  before 
it  curved  again,  standing  beneath  a  tree  and  with 
his  face  toward  her,  a  man  apparently  listening  and 
waiting  for  her. 

He  had  dismounted  from  his  horse,  a  light-tinted 
yellow  roan,  who  stood  as  still  as  if  he  were  of 
bronze,  while  his  master  leaned  against  the  saddle, 
with  his  hand  on  the  bridle.  He  held  the  other 
arm  akimbo,  with  his  hand  on  the  belt  which  sup 
ported  a  knife  and  a  pair  of  pistols.  They  were 
unconcealed  by  a  coat;  he  wore  a  blue  shirt  and 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  71 

blue  jeans  trousers,  with  heavy  boots  drawn  to 
the  knees  ;  and  she  recognized  him  rather  by  his  ac 
coutrements  than  his  face,  for  his  wide  white  wool 
hat  was  pulled  far  over  it.  From  under  the  broad 
brim  he  gazed  at  her  with  sullen,  lowering  eyes. 

"  I  hearn  ye  callin'  the  cow,  an'  I  knowed  yer 
voice,"  he  said.  "  I  been  waitin'  fur  ye." 

She  faltered  for  a  moment;  then,  with  an  evi 
dent  effort,  quickened  her  step  and  went  forward 
to  meet  him.  She  apprehended  the  anger  in  his 
face,  apparently,  for  there  was  a  disarming,  depre 
cating  look  in  her  clear  dark  eyes  as  she  cast  them 
up  at  him.  Her  yellow  sunbonnet  hardly  served 
more  for  shelter  than  an  aureola  might  have  done, 
—  a  background  for  her  auburn  head;  her  dark 
brown  dress  and  the  green  shadows  of  the  trees 
added  a  pallor  to  her  white  oval  face  with  its  small 
delicate  chin.  He  did  not  heed  her  appealing 
gaze.  It  was  with  a  stern,  hard  voice  that  he 
spoke,  and  a  fiery  eye. 

"  I  hev  got  a  word  ter  say  ter  ye,  Ad'licia,"  he 
began,  walking  slowly  by  her  side  and  leading  his 
horse,  the  reins  thrown  over  his  arm  and  his  up 
lifted  hand  near  the  bit. 

The  animal's  head  was  close  above  his  shoulder, 
and  as  Adelicia  met  the  creature's  large-eyed  and 
liquid  gaze  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  were  doubly 
arraigned  before  them  both. 

"Ye  needn't  ter  try  ter  fool  me,"  said  Jack 
Espey  between  his  teeth. 

"  I  ain't  tryin'  ter  fool  ye,"  protested  Adelicia. 


72  ffJS    VANISHED   STAR. 

He  looked  at  her  narrowly,  taking  note  of  her 
evident  discomposure,  and  placing  disastrous  con 
struction  upon  it. 

"  Ye  'low  ye  kin  fool  me  'thout  tryin',  I  reckon," 
he  said,  with  a  sarcastic  smile. 

"I  ain't  a-foolin'  ye,"  gasped  Adelicia.  "Ye 
know  —  why,  ye  know  I  ain't !  " 

He  hesitated,  half  constrained  to  believe  her. 
He  still  gazed  searchingly  at  her  from  under  the 
broad  brim  of  his  hat.  Her  wild,  agitated  look 
made  him  doubtful. 

"Now,  ye  jes'  ondertake  ter  fool  me,"  he  con 
tinued,  with  an  accession  of  angry  jealousy,  "  an'  " 
—  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  pistol  in  his  belt  —  "I  '11 
ondertake  ter  shoot  ye  dead  on  the  spot." 

The  color  surged  to  her  face.  The  tears  rushed 
to  her  eyes.  A  sharp  conflict  waged  in  her  heart 
for  a  moment,  and  then  she  walked  on  beside  him, 
pale,  composed,  silent,  as  if  she  were  alone  in  the 
depths  of  the  primeval  wilderness. 

Only  the  sound  of  the  stir  of  the  saddle  with  the 
breathing  of  the  horse  as  the  animal  tramped  on 
behind  them,  their  muffled  footfalls  barely  percep 
tible  on  the  thick  herbage  of  the  cattle  path,  the 
light  whisper  of  the  wind  in  the  leaves,  broke  the 
pause,  while  Jack  Espey's  touch  trembled  on  the 
handle  of  the  pistol  as  he  walked  beside  her. 

Her  calmness  shook  his  own  composure. 

"Ad'licia!"  he  exclaimed  petulantly,  but  with 
an  evident  softening  of  his  fierce  mood,  "  why  n't 
ye  say  suthin'  ?  Why  n't  ye  say  suthin5  ter  me  ?  " 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  73 

"  I  dunno  what  ter  say,"  she  responded  coolly. 

"  Ye  know  what  I  want  ter  hear,"  he  declared 
passionately. 

"  'T  ain't  no  use  ter  say  it  agin."  She  turned 
upon  him  her  eyes,  soft  and  lustrous,  like  some 
brownish-greenish  moss  in  the  depths  of  a  crystal 
spring.  "  I  done  said  it  an'  said  it." 

His  hand  released  the  pistol,  and  pushed  his  hat 
far  back  on  his  dark  hair  with  a  hasty  gesture 
of  impatience.  Then,  with  a  sudden  calmness, 
"  Ad'licia,  ye  ought  n't  ter  git  mad  with  me !  Ye 
ought  n't  ter  git  mad  so  dad-burned  easy !  " 

"  Mebbe  I  ought  n't,"  she  said,  with  a  note  of 
sarcasm  in  her  vibrant  voice.  Her  eyes  were 
bright,  her  cheek  flushed. 

"  'T  ain't  right,"  he  continued  didactically. 
"  'T  ain't  religious."  He  looked  at  her  with  grave, 
admonitory  eyes. 

"  Mebbe  't  ain't,"  she  responded.  She  laughed 
a  little,  unmirthfully,  and  her  lip  quivered. 

He  strode  on  a  few  steps  in  silence,  at  a  loss  for 
words  for  explanation.  He  dreaded  and  deferred 
it,  and  yet  he  longed  for  its  possible  reassurance. 
As  his  thoughts  canvassed  its  probabilities,  he 
broke  out  tumultuously  once  more  :  — 

"  I  hev  got  good  reason  ter  b'lieve  ye  air  foolin' 
me,  —  good  reason,  I  tell  ye,  now,  Ad'licia !  " 

"  Good  reason  agin  my  word  ?  "  she  demanded, 
her  pride  in  her  eyes. 

He  stared  at  her.  "  A  gal's  word ! "  he  said 
lightly,  and  then  he  laughed.  As  a  guaranty  it 


74  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

struck  him  humorously.  "  I  reckon  thar  ain't 
many  men  ez  would  be  willin'  ter  stand  or  fall  by 
seek" 

"  Ye  set  store  by  it  wunst,"  she  said  humbly. 

"  'T  war  when  ye  promised  ter  marry  me,"  he 
declared  precipitately,  unconsciously  showing  that 
it  was  the  prospect  which  he  had  valued  without 
trusting  the  promise.  "  An'  I  want  ye  ter  'bide  by 
it,  too,"  he  sternly  added,  suddenly  perceiving  that 
it  was  not  policy  to  adduce  too  freely  precedents  as 
to  the  friability  of  feminine  promises. 

She  shook  her  head,  regardless  of  his  keen,  fiery 
eye.  "  I  ain't  goin'  ter  marry  nobody,  I  reckon," 
she  said  slowly.  "  Ye  '11  shoot  me  dead  fust,  some 
day,  in  one  o'  yer  tantrums." 

"  Ye  ain't  a-goin'  ter  marry  'Renzo  Taft,  an'  that 
I  tell  ye,  now.  I  '11  shoot  ye  fust,  sure  !  "  he  cried 
furiously,  his  eyes  blazing  upon  her. 

The  look  in  her  face  checked  his  passionate  rage. 
An  utter  wonderment,  a  deep  bewilderment,  over 
spread  it  as  she  echoed,  "  ' 'Renzo  Taft  !  The  man 
over  yander  at  Lost  Time  mine  ?  War  ye  a-talkin' 
'bout  him  ?" 

He  controlled  himself  instantly,  although  his 
eyes  were  all  ashine  and  alertly  restless. 

"  Who  war  you-uns  a-thinkin'  'bout,  Ad'licia  ?  " 
he  asked  gently  and  incidentally. 

"  Jasper  Larrabee,  o'  course,"  she  answered  in 
nocently. 

He  could  only  grind  a  curse  between  his  teeth, 
and  then  he  was  speechless  for  a  moment. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  75 

"  I  dunno  nare  nuther  good-lookin'  young  man 
in  the  Cove,"  continued  Adelicia,  girlishly  talking 
on,  oblivious  of  the  significance  of  her  disclosures. 
"  Though  I  b'lieve  Jasper  ain't  studyin'  'bout  sech 
ez  marryin'.  He  jes'  kerns  thar  toler'ble  frequent 
ter  read  out'n  his  book  ter  uncle  Lucy.  He  kin 
read  powerful  well.  Uncle  Lucy  'lows  he  senses 
the  Gorspel  better  from  Jasper's  readin'  'n  the 
rider's,  'kase  whenst  he  don't  onderstan'  he  kin 
make  Jasper  stop  an'  spell  it  out  an'  read  it  over. 
An'  sometimes  "  —  she  broke  ,into  a  little  dimpling 
laugh  —  "  whenst  the  Gorspel  goes  agin  uncle 
Lucy's  policy  an'  practice,  he  makes  Jasper  spell 
an'  spell,  an'  yit  them  times  he  can't  spell  it  out  to 
suit  uncle  Lucy.  But  it 's  plumb  heartsome  ter 
hear  Jasper  read  of  a  stormy  night,"  she  added, 
recalling  the  one  spiritual  pleasure  of  her  stunted, 
starveling  spiritual  life. 

As  she  glanced  at  his  face,  there  was  something, 
so  gruesome,  so  strange,  in  its  expression  that  she 
was  fain  to  remonstrate.  "  Ye  'pear  powerful 
techy,  Jack,"  she  said.  "  Ez  ter  'Renzo  Taft,  it 's 
jes'  old  uncle  Lucy's  foolishness ;  an'  I  wish  he  'd 
quit  it,  too !  Though  't  ain't  no  harm,  nuther. 
Uncle  Lucy  jes'  makes  out  ez  'Renzo  Taft  air  arter 
me  or  Julia  fur  a  stepmammy  fur  his  leetle  gal,  an' 
it  tickles  him  ter  talk  'bout'n  it,  —  it 's  so  foolish  ! 
Why,  Jack,  'Renzo  Taft  is  old  enough  purty  nigh 
ter  be  my  dad ;  an'  —  he  ain't  ugly,  edzac'ly  —  but, 
but  —  nowise  desirable.  Uncle  Lucy  air  always 
peckin'  at  me  fur  puttin'  myself  out  ter  obligate 


76  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

other  folks,  but  I  ain't  so  powerful  meek-tempered 
ez  ter  marry  'Renzo  Taft  ter  be  a  stepmammy. 
Though  he  ain't  axed  me,  nor  nobody  else  ez  I 
knows  on.  An'  I  ain't  got  nuthin'  agin  him." 

He  walked  on  beside  her,  hardly  listening,  and 
scarcely  caring  what  she  said  or  thought  of  Taft. 
For  him,  at  the  moment,  Jasper  Larrabee,  and  his 
gift  of  reading  the  Scriptures  and  interpreting  them 
to  Cap'n  Lucy's  satisfaction  and  her  humble  and 
incidental  pleasure,  filled  all  the  horizon.  His  jeal 
ousy  had  taken  a  new  lease  on  life  with  this  more 
promising  object,  and  with  the  surer  foundation  of 
what  she  said  of  Larrabee  rather  than  of  what  Taft 
said  of  her.  He  hardly  heeded  her  presence  as  he 
sought  to  gather  together  his  faculties.  He  did 
not  even  feel  the  clumsy  caress  of  the  horse  now 
and  again  rubbing  his  head  against  his  master's 
shoulder,  as  he  minced  along  behind  him,  accommo- 
dating  his  long  stride  to  the  shorter  compass  of  the 
human  step.  The  young  man's  eyes  were  hot; 
they  seemed  to  burn  the  dry  lids,  as  he  gazed  down 
through  the  cool  leafy  vistas  of  the  forest;  but  his 
voice  was  calm  enough  when  he  suddenly  said  to 
her:  — 

"  Ad'licia,  ef  ye  keered  ennything  'bout  me  wuth 
talkin'  'bout,  ye  'd  marry  me  now." 

The  placidity  which  her  face  had  resumed  as  she 
had  talked  disappeared  abruptly.  She  was  once 
more  anxious,  disquieted,  on  the  brink  of  tears. 

"Ye  know,  Jack,"  she  expostulated,  "I  can't 
marry  agin  uncle  Lucy's  word." 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  77 

"  Ye  would  ef  ye  keered  a  straw,  a  bare  straw." 

"  Uncle  Lucy  jes'  say,  '  Wait  awhile.'  It 's  jes' 
6  awhile,'  else  I  would  go  agin  his  cornsent." 

"Ye  don't  keer,"  he  reiterated  dolorously,  for 
her  protest  was  welcome  to  him. 

"Uncle  Lucy  jes'  say,"  she  went  on  very  fast, 
"  jes'  wait  till  that  man  ez  you-uns  shot  in  Tangle 
foot  Cove  gits  well.  He  '11  git  well,  I  reckon.  Ye 
said  he  war  powerful  hearty  an'  big.  Uncle  Lucy 
say  he  ain't  goin'  ter  lemme  marry  a  man  ez 
mought  be  tried  fur  his  life,  ef  he  kin  holp  it." 

"  Ef  ye  keered  fur  me,  ye  wouldn't  gin  that  fur 
Cap'n  Lucy's  word ! "  he  asseverated,  as  he  lifted 
his  arm  high  in  the  air  and  snapped  his  fingers  res 
onantly. 

The  horse  shied  suddenly  at  the  sound,  and  pulled 
heavily  on  the  hand  that  held  the  bit. 

Her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"Jack,"  she  said  in  deep  humiliation,  "I  can't 
'low  at  this  time  o'  day  ez  I  don't  keer  fur  uncle 
Lucy's  word.  I  never  eat  none  o'  my  own  bread 
in  my  life." 

She  knew  that  he  had  turned  and  was  staring  at 
her,  although  she  could  not  distinguish  him  through 
her  tears.  If  she  had  never  loved  him,  her  heart 
might  have  warmed  to  him  now,  for  the  vehemence, 
the  partisanship,  with  which  he  protested  her  inde 
pendence. 

"  Eat  yer  own  bread !  "  he  cried  in  a  ringing 
voice  that  made  her  shrink.  "  Ye  never  eat  nuthin' 
else !  Who  churns,  an'  sweeps,  an'  mends,  an' 


78  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

cooks,  an'  milks  cows,  this  many  an'  many  a  day  ? 
That  thar  dough-faced  Julia?  " 

To  his  amazement  she  burst  out  laughing,  but 
the  next  moment  she  was  sobbing  in  good  earnest, 
and  he  hardly  knew  whether  she  was  glad  or  sorry. 

He  scarcely  paused  to  wonder.  He  went  tumul- 
tuously  on  to  repudiate  the  obligations  that  so  low 
ered  her  pride  and  her  title  to  self-respect.  "  Who 
hoes,  an'  sews,  an'  weaves,  an'  spins,  an'  raises  the 
chickens  an'  tur-rkeys  an'  sech,  an'  answers  old 
Cap'n  Lucy's  call '  Ad'licia !  Ad'licia ! '  all  day  long? 
That  thar  long,  lank,  limp  Julia?  Ef  I  war  ter 
marry  ye  an'  take  ye  away  from  thar,  that  house 
would  fall  down,  I  reckon,  an'  old  Cap'n  Lucy 
knows  it." 

His  well-set  bluish-gray  eyes  had  brightened  as 
he  spoke ;  he  smiled  genially ;  his  face  was  hand 
some  and  intelligent  with  this  expression.  The 
next  moment  it  clouded  heavily.  He  could  not  do 
this  as  almost  any  other  man  might,  —  marry  a 
wife  and  take  her  home.  He  was  a  fugitive  and  an 
exile  by  reason  of  the  jeopardy  of  the  man  whom 
he  had  shot  in  Tanglefoot  Cove,  and  who  still  hung 
between  life  and  death,  his  own  fate  involving  that 
of  his  enemy.  Jack  Espey  felt  sure  that  he  could 
have  proven  self-defense,  had  he  permitted  himgelf 
to  be  apprehended  at  the  time.  But  from  the  cir 
cumstance  of  his  hasty  flight,  uncertain  what  he  had 
done  and  animated  by  ignorant  terrors  of  the  law, 
the  lapse  of  time,  the  dispersion  of  witnesses,  he 
feared  to  submit  his  action  to  a  legal  arbitrament 
now. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  79 

The  suspense  was  in  itself  a  terrible  retribution, 
but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  Espey  had  hardly  appreci 
ated  its  rigors  till  now,  when  it  hampered  his  every 
prospect  in  life.  He  had  been  a  man  of  some  sub 
stance  in  his  native  place,  according  to  the  humble 
rating  of  the  mountaineers,  and  the  lowering  of 
pride  involved  in  his  present  situation  was  very 
bitter  to  him.  He  could  not  ask  to  be  received 
under  Cap'n  Lucy's  roof,  and  its  hospitalities  cer 
tainly  would  not  be  offered.  He  repented  of  his 
candor  in  making  known  his  circumstances  when 
he  had  "  asked  for  "  Adelicia,  for  in  the  probation 
on  which  he  had  been  placed  he  recognized  the 
crafty  hope  of  her  uncle  that  the  affair  would  soon 
blow  over.  He  felt  it  a  poor  reward  for  his  frank 
ness,  and  he  determined  that  it  should  not  go 
without  requital  in  turn.  "  Jes'  lemme  fix  up  that 
cussed  bother  in  Tanglefoot,  an'  durned  ef  Cap'n 
Lucy  ever  shell  see  Ad'licia's  face  agin ! "  he  often 
said  to  himself. 

Meanwhile  he  hung  around  as  best  he  might, 
fraternizing  secretly  with  the  moonshiners  ;  for  here 
was  the  best  opportunity  of  earning  enough  to  pro 
vide  for  his  simple  wants,  and  to  keep  him  out  of 
the  observation  of  the  law,  while  awaiting  the  result 
in  Tanglefoot,  whence  the  news  had  lately  become 
more  hopeful. 

He  had  fallen  in  with  Jasper  Larrabee  at  the 
blacksmith's  shop  at  the  cross-roads,  where  he  had 
paused  in  his  flight  for  his  horse  to  be  shod  ;  the 
two  had  "  struck  up  "  a  mutual  liking,  and  Espey 


80  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

had  come  with  Larrabee  to  the  Cove,  where  he 
divided  his  time  pretty  equally  between  his  new 
friend's  home  and  the  Lost  Time  mine.  His  frank 
ness  had  not  extended  to  these  acquaintances,  who 
knew  no  reason  why  he  should  shun  observation 
except  that  which  they  shared  with  him  concerning 
the  still.  His  utility  there  and  its  financial  advan 
tages  were  ample  to  justify  the  continuation  of  his 
stay  in  the  Cove ;  and  thus,  but  for  his  own  attack 
of  conscientiousness  in  revealing  his  true  circum 
stances  to  Adelicia  and  Cap'n  Lucy,  he  might  have 
seemed  as  advantageously  placed  as  any  of  his 
compeers. 

"  Waal,"  said  Adelicia,  unaccountably  bright 
ened,  "  we-uns  hev  ter  'bide  by  uncle  Lucy's  word 
an'  wait  awhile,  bein'  ez  he  hev  tuk  keer  o'  me  all 
my  days,  mighty  nigh.  An'  ye  better  be  toler'ble 
perlite  ter  Julia,  too,"  she  added,  with  a  radiant 
smile.  "  Julia  's  cornsider'ble  apt  ter  take  notice 
o'  slights." 

He  promised  humbly,  swallowing  his  pride  with  a 
mighty  gulp ;  and  as  they  came  out  from  the  woods 
into  the  more  open  spaces  shelving  to  the  great 
crags,  they  encountered  Kenniston,  a  cigar  in  his 
mouth,  a  memorandum  in  his  hand  of  the  bounda 
ries  of  his  land,  taken  from  the  calls  of  his  title- 
deed,  a  good-humored  triumph  on  his  face,  and 
a  gay,  kind  voice  as  he  instantly  recognized  and 
greeted  Adelicia. 

He  called  her  to  come  and  observe  the  splendor 
of  the  view  from  a  certain  craggy  point  where  there 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  81 

would  be  an  observatory,  and  his  enthusiasm  was 
not  dashed  even  when  she  gazed  off  wonderingly 
into  space,  seeing  nothing  to  which  she  was  un 
accustomed,  and  evidently  apprehending  naught  of 
what  he  said.  He  wondered  a  trifle,  subacutely, 
how  much  the  perception  of  beauty  may  be  pro 
moted  by  the  sense  of  contrast.  Since  she  knew  no 
dull  levels,  or  discordant  scenes,  the  sublime  was 
merely  the  natural  daily  presentment  of  creation, 
no  more  a  marvel  than  the  rising  of  the  sun,  and 
thus  she  was  bereft  of  its  appreciation.  He  won 
dered,  too,  if  the  converse  of  the  proposition  were 
true,  —  if  those  to  whom  nature  is  expressed  in  a 
meadow,  or  a  series  of  knobs,  or  a  pond,  can  have 
no  mental  conception  of  the  austere  splendors  of 
the  craggy  heights  or  the  stupendous  area  of  infi 
nite  detail  spread  before  the  eye  within  a  wide  hori 
zon  piled  with  mountains.  He  showed  her,  too,  a 
small  drawing  of  the  projected  hotel,  which  she 
held  awry  and  almost  reversed  to  gaze  upon  it. 
His  good  humor  extended  to  her  companion,  whom 
he  had  never  before  seen.  Although  usually  aloof 
and  averse  to  strangers,  Espey  found  the  suave 
words  a  salve  to  his  sore  heart.  He  did  not  know 
how  much  less  pleasant  Kenniston  could  be  when 
not  pleased.  Just  now  even  this  new  acquaintance 
harmonized  most  aptly  with  his  gracious  mood.  Ar 
tistically  viewed,  poor  Espey  might  have  graced  the 
romantic  stage,  as  he  stood,  in  his  dark  blue  shirt 
and  trousers  and  great  spurred  boots,  defined 
against  the  yellow-bronze  horse  which  he  held  by 


82'  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

the  bit,  his  belt  full  of  weapons,  his  broad  white 
hat  far  back  on  his  black  hair,  and  his  defiant  face 
at  once  wild  and  eager  and  wistful.  The  man  of 
the  alert  pencil  was  moved  to  wish  that  he  had  the 
art  to  do  him  justice. 

Kenniston's  kind  and  ingratiating  manner  as  he 
explained  his  plans  and  expectations,  which  could 
not  interest  the  mountaineer,  who  was  as  -foreign  to 
such  considerations  as  deer  or  bear,  secured  never 
theless  Espey's  attention  and  respectful  silence. 
He  looked  now  and  again  with  a  sort  of  reluctant 
liking  at  Kenniston's  face  as  he  talked,  regretting 
that,  since  he  attached  so  much  hope  and  conse 
quence  to  the  project,  it  would  be  necessary  to  burn 
the  buildings  down  as  fast  as  they  were  erected. 

In  the  plenitude  of  his  access  of  amiability, 
Kenniston  lagged  behind  and  let  them  stroll  away 
homeward  together,  —  as  pretty  a  pair  of  rustic 
lovers,  he  thought,  as  one  could  wish  to  see. 

The  sun  was  well  down  ;  the  sky  was  red  ;  the 
evening  star  was  in  a  saffron  haze;  the  nearest 
mountains  had  turned  a  deep  purple,  with  a  vague, 
translucent,  overlaying  gray  hue  like  the  bloom  on 
a  ripe  grape  ;  the  distant  ranges  had  vanished  in 
the  mystery  of  night.  It  was  not  dark,  but  the 
flare  of  the  fire  within  the  door  of  Cap'n  Lucy's 
cabin  was  visible  as  it  rose  and  fell  on  the  pun 
cheon  floor  in  transitory  flickers.  It  was  a  poor 
place,  but  it  was  home,  and  to  the  exile  it  looked 
like  paradise.  Julia  had  come  to  the  door,  and 
stood  there  half  in  the  soft  outer  light,  and  half 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  83 

in  the  firelight  within.  Schooled  and  docile,  Es- 
pey  remembered  his  monitor's  bidding,  and  roused 
his  unwilling,  flagging  energies  and  his  tired,  sad 
heart  to  evolve  some  pleasantry  as  he  called  out  a 
greeting  from  the  bars.  She  turned  her  sleek  head 
and  smiled  at  him.  There  had  never  been  such 
eyes  in  the  Cove,  except  perhaps  those  which 
Cap'n  Lucy  had  opened  there  first  some  sixty  years 
before,  nor  such  long,  dark,  curling  lashes.  She 
might,  however,  have  been  no  more  comely,  for  all 
Jack  Espey  cared,  than  old  "  T'bithy,"  Adelicia's 
cat,  who  arched  her  plebeian  scantily  furred  back 
in  the  door,  and  surveyed  the  landscape  with  her 
yellow  eyes,  and  yawned  from  sheer  mental  vacu 
ity.  He  got  through  the  interview  with  what  poor 
grace  he  could,  and  from  a  sense  of  duty ;  and  as  he 
was  about  to  mount,  he  offered,  unobserved  by  the 
others,  to  take  Adelicia's  hand.  To  his  amaze 
ment,  she  looked  him  full  in  the  face  with  hard, 
angry  eyes,  struck  down  his  hand  with  a  petulant 
gesture,  passed  him  like  a  flash,  and  disappeared 
within  the  door. 

Jack  Espey,  who  had  no  more  recognition  of  the 
aspect  of  jealousy  than  if  he  had  never  felt  its 
power,  could  but  mount  and  ride  away  in  angry 
bewilderment ;  and  Kenniston,  hearing  the  furious 
speed  of  his  horse's  hoofs  as  he  went  headlong  down 
the  dark,  rocky  road,  looked  wonderingly  after 
him. 

"  He  '11  break  his  neck,  at  that  rate,"  he  said. 


V. 


KENNISTON'S  gracious  mood  was  not  of  long  con 
tinuance.  He  was  of  the  temperament  which  de 
mands  a  prerequisite  for  good  nature.  Given  an 
adequate  reason  to  be  happy,  and  he  could  show 
you  a  fine  article  of  felicity.  But  his  heart  would 
not  bubble  with  gratitude  on  general  principles  for 
ordinary  blessings  enjoyed  in  common  by  humanity 
at  large.  It  was  not  enough  for  him  that  the  fried 
chicken  was  fat ;  that  his  cigar  was  good ;  that 
as  he  smoked  after  supper  on  the  little  porch,  the 
air  was  so  fragrant,  so  fine,  so  dry  ;  that  the  stars 
were  brighter  for  the  great  dark  amphitheatre  of 
mountains  above  whose  summits,  serrated  against 
the  horizon,  his  far-reaching  gaze  sought  them ; 
that  Julia,  as  she  sat  on  the  step  of  the  threshold, 
had  an  outline  and  a  coiffure  that  he  would  have 
discriminated  as  classic  in  marble;  that  every 
trace  of  the  battered  beauty  of  old  Cap'n  Lucy's 
countenance  vanished,  leaving  it  a  unique  ideal  for 
a  gargoyle,  when  his  guest  chanced  to  intimate  that 
he  had  written  to  the  register  in  the  county  town, 
who  had  furnished  him  with  the  calls  from  his  title- 
deeds,  and  that  he  felt  very  sure  that  Cap'n  Lucy 
had  inadvertently  trespassed  on  his  neighbor's  do- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  85 

main.  Harmoniously  ugly  as  his  countenance  was, 
Cap'n  Lucy's  conduct  was  more  so. 

"  Waal,  sir,"  he  said,  after  an  interval  of  stunned 
dismay,  during  which  Kenniston  leaned  forward, 
drawing  with  his  cane  an  imaginary  line  on  the 
floor,  and  repeating  the  measurements  for  the  boun 
daries  from  the  paper  in  his  hand,  "  ye  an'  the 
register  may  go  to  hell,  sir,  an'  brile,  sir  !  " 

Cap'n  Lucy's  face  was  very  distinct  in  the  light 
from  the  fire  within  the  door,  as  he  sat  tilted  back 
in  the  chair  against  the  post  of  the  porch,  and 
a  sudden  sensation  ensued  amongst  his  household 
as  they  gazed  upon  him,  astounded  by  this  unpre 
cedented  breach  of  all  the  canons  of  hospitality. 
There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  Luther  stirred 
uneasily,  the  legs  of  his  chair  rasping  harshly  on 
the  rough  flooring  of  the  porch.  Even  Julia  gave 
signs  of  having  heard  by  turning  her  head  slowly, 
with  a  certain  interest  and  excitement  on  her  im 
passive  face.  Adelicia's  eyes  dilated  with  alarm 
as  she  half  rose  from  her  seat  on  the  step  of  the 
porch  ;  she  had  grown  pale  ;  her  delicate,  fine  little 
chin  and  her  lips  quivered  with  the  agitation  of  the 
moment. 

"  Oh,  uncle  Lucy,  ye  don't  mean  that,  —  ye  don't 
mean  that,  now !  "  she  urged. 

"  Oh,  I  ain't  partic'lar  ez  ter  when  !  "  the  old 
man  blurted  out.  And  then  he  paused  to  chuckle 
in  sinister  fashion  over  his  play  upon  the  double 
meaning  of  the  word  "  now  "  in  this  connection.  He 
had  a  satisfaction,  too,  in  thwarting  the  ever-ready 


86  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

peacemaker  and  apologist,  and  in  her  look  of  balked 
surprise  as  she  cogitated  upon  his  answer. 

His  grimly  jocose  pride  in  his  cleverness  re 
lieved  the  tension  of  the  moment.  It  suddenly  be 
came  more  practicable  for  Kenniston  to  overlook 
his  rude  rage,  when  the  circumstances  rendered  it 
hardly  possible  for  him  to  take  cognizance  of  it. 
His  indignant  repugnance  to  the  situation  was 
sharply  manifest  in  his  face,  however,  which  was 
of  an  expressive  type,  but  he  compassed  an  offhand 
manner  as  he  said,  — 

"Oh,  the  register  and  I  may  be  burned  indefi 
nitely  and  to  your  heart's  content,  in  due  course  of 
spiritual  justice  ;  but  I  fancy  it  won't  be  the  direct 
consequence  of  anything  in  the  nature  of  muni 
ments  of  title,  and  it  won't  change  the  metes  and 
bounds  of  this  land  by  one  rod,  perch,  or  pole." 

Another  voice  broke  into  the  discussion  abruptly : 

"What  reason  hev  ye  got  ter  'low  ez  Cap'n  Lucy 
be  on  yer  land  ?  " 

The  dull  irradiation  of  the  porch  from  the  flicker 
of  the  fire  within  the  house  barely  sufficed  to  show 
Lorenzo  Taft's  burly  form  standing  beside  the 
post.  His  approach  had  been  unnoticed  by  the 
group,  but  his  question  apprised  them  that  he  had 
joined  them  some  moments  previously,  and  the 
pawing  of  his  mare  at  the  gate  showed  that  she 
had  been  hitched  in  anticipation  of  passing  the 
evening  there.  In  the  excitement  of  the  situation 
the  usual  greetings  were  dispensed  with,  and  Ken 
niston  not  unwillingly  recited  anew  the  calls  of  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  87 

title  papers,  again  sketching  the  boundary  line 
with  his  cane  on  the  floor,  and  even  taking  from 
his  pocket  a  letter,  and  drawing  upon  the  back  of 
the  envelope  a  miniature  plat  of  the  irregularly 
shaped  body  of  land.  Even  in  his  preoccupation 
he  could  but  note  the  intelligence  of  the  attention 
which  the  visitor  closely  bent  upon  his  exposition 
and  the  rude  draught,  the  receptivity  of  his  mind, 
the  pertinence  of  his  questions.  Taft  stood  lean 
ing  over  the  back  of  Kennis toil's  chair,  his  blue 
eyes  fixed  on  the  paper  in  the  slim  deft  fingers  of 
the  draughtsman,  his  own  brawny  hand  laid  medi 
tatively  on  his  long  yellow  beard. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Kenniston,  folding  the  paper, 
and  by  way  of  concluding  the  matter,  "  I  am  ready 
to  pay  the  colonel  the  full  value  of  his  improve 
ments.  He  has  only  to  name  his  price." 

The  irate  glance  which  Cap'n  Lucy  shot  at  him 
served  to  steady  him  a  trifle,  to  tame  his  buoyant 
sense  of  triumph.  He  had  an  ample  fund  of  phy 
sical  courage  ;  that  is,  in  his  fresh,  healthy,  normal 
mental  impulses  he  never  thought  of  fear.  But  he 
had  seldom  been  brought  into  actual  personal 
danger,  and  the  details  of  sundry  lawless  and  fu 
rious  feuds  that  had  come  to  his  knowledge  during 
his  stay  in  the  mountains  were  brought  suddenly 
to  his  remembrance  by  that  swift,  scathing  look ; 
he  was  further  reminded  that  few  of  these  bloody 
chronicles  recounted  so  definite  a  provocation  as 
the  effort  at  eviction.  Nevertheless,  the  sense  of 
proprietorship  was  strong  within  him,  and  the 


88  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

active  aggressiveness  of  a  man  with  the  coercions 
of  that  weapon  in  his  hand,  the  law  of  the  land, 
made  his  blood  stir  when  Cap'n  Lucy,  wagging 
his  arbitrary  old  head,  retorted,  "  An'  s'pose  I 
say  —  like  I  hev  said  —  ez  my  h'a'thstoiie  ain't 
got  no  price !  S'pose  I  won't  sell,  an'  I  won't  gin 
in,  an'  I  keep  my  line  whar  I  know  my  line  hev 
got  a  right  ter  be,  —  whut  then,  hey?  " 

But  for  his  gray  head,  so  did  his  manner  and  ex 
pression  reach  the  climax  of  aggravation,  it  might 
have  seemed  righteousness  to  smite  him.  Kenniston, 
held  in  the  bonds  of  such  considerations,  controlled 
himself  with  difficulty.  He  was  unused  to  self- 
restraint,  or  to  occasions  that  necessitated  it.  The 
color  had  overspread  his  face;  he  was  hot,  im 
patient,  indignant.  "  Why,  then,  there 's  nothing 
for  it  but  to  procession  the  land  and  establish  the 
boundary,"  he  declared. 

Cap'n  Lucy  stared  in  amazement.  This  possi 
bility  seemed  never  to  have  occurred  to  him  as  a 
solution. 

"  Percession  my  Ian' !  "  he  cried  at  last,  as  if  the 
extremity  of  insult  had  been  offered  him.  "  Per 
cession  my  Ian' ! "  His  face  was  scarlet ;  his  eye 
blazed  ;  his  hand,  held  out  with  a  gesture  of  insist 
ence  toward  Kenniston,  shook  with  fury. 

"Or  my  land,"  Kenniston  sneered.  " 'T is  n't 
capital  punishment.  Plenty  of  men  have  survived 
the  processioning  of  land,  —  thriven  on  it !  My 
land,  then ;  the  process  won't  hurt  it.  Get  the 
line,  —  that 's  what  I  want." 


HIS  VANISHED  STAR.  89 

Once  or  twice  Adelicia  sought,  in  her  agitation, 
to  interpose.  Now  she  rose  and  came  to  Cap'n 
Lucy's  side,  taking  hold  of  the  shaking  hand  which 
he  brought  ever  nearer  to  Kenniston's  face,  who 
would  not  draw  back,  nor  mitigate  nor  postpone  his 
demand,  in  the  front  of  this  threatening  gesture. 
"  Oh,  uncle  Lucy  —  don't  —  don't !  Sweet  uncle 
Lucy,  don't !  Thar 's  room  enough  in  the  mount 
ings  fur  all  o'  we-uns  !  Look  at  the  mountings  — 
how  big  they  air  —  toler'ble  roomy  fur  sure !  Don't 
quar'l  'bout  lan\  uncle  Lucy,  —  whenst  we-uns  hev 
got  all  out  o'  doors  fur  Ian',  —  an'  git  in  a  fight, 
mebbe,  an'  git  hurt,  an'  "  — 

"Ad'licia,"  snarled  "sweet  uncle  Lucy,"  with  a 
gasp,  pretermitting  his  attentions  to  Kenniston  to 
turn  upon  her  his  corrugated  face,  "  Ad'licia,  I  tole 
that  man  ez  war  so  dead  set  ter  marry  ye  ez  I 
would  n't  let  him  hev  ye.  But  I  hev  changed  my 
mind.  I  '11  tell  him  he  kin  cart  ye  off  from  hyar 
ter-morrer,  an'  welcome,  mighty  welcome,  ef  so  be 
he  ain't  changed  his  mind;  fur  I  can't  abide  ye 
an'  yer  '  peace  talks,'  like  a  Injun,  an'  yer  interferin' 
with  yer  elders,  an'  yer  purtenses,  no  mo' !  Thar, 
now ! "  he  exclaimed  in  triumph,  as  she  fell  back 
quite  speechless  because  of  this  disclosure  of  the 
matrimonial  proposition.  "  I  reckon  ye  '11  set  down 
now,  an'  stay  set !  " 

Then  he  turned  to  Kenniston  with  an  accession 
of  fury,  the  fiercer  for  the  momentary  stemming  of 
the  tide. 

"  An'  I  say,  hyar  I  be,  an'  yer  percessionin'  don't 


90  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

tech  me  nowhar.  An'  hyar  I  '11  'bide,  no  matter 
whut !  An'  I  won't  sell  out,  an'  I  won't  take  no 
price  fur  my  h'a'thstone,  no  matter  whut !  " 

"  Then,"  said  Kenniston  hotly,  "  you  '11  be  ejected 
in  due  process  of  law,  —  that's  all." 

He  changed  color  the  next  moment  and  bit  his 
lip,  for  he  had  put  himself  in  a  false  position. 

"  That 's  toler'ble  tall  talk  ter  a  man  under  his 
own  roof,"  said  Cap'n  Lucy,  suddenly  cool,  and  not 
without  dignity. 

Kenniston  was  out  of  countenance  for  the  nonce. 
He  felt  that  there  was  scant  grace  or  utility  in  forc 
ing  the  matter,  which  was  beyond  the  control  of 
either,  to  this  unseemly  issue.  He  had  been  hur 
ried  by  his  impatience  of  contradiction  and  Cap'n 
Lucy's  illogical  and  arbitrary  temper  far  beyond  his 
intention,  which  was  originally  merely  to  propose 
to  have  the  surveyor  run  out  the  boundary  line  in 
order  to  demonstrate  for  the  old  man's  enlighten 
ment  the  fact  that  he  was  a  trespasser,  and  to  offer 
to  pay  the  full  value  of  the  improvements.  But  he 
was  not  of  the  type  from  whom  penitents  are  devel 
oped.  The  acknowledgment  of  being  in  the  wrong 
was  inexpressibly  repugnant  to  him.  Perhaps  he 
could  not  have  constrained  himself  to  make  it  but 
that  he  foresaw  the  reversal  of  their  mutual  posi 
tion. 

"  You  're  more  than  half  right,  colonel.  I  am 
out  of  place  here.  I  feel  that.  And,  under  the  cir 
cumstances,  I  think  I  had  better  take  myself  off." 

He  had  intended  to  get  the  better  of  his  host. 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  91 

But  his  most  cruel  desire  could  never  have  sought 
to  compass  the  deep  humiliation  of  vanquishment 
which  had  befallen  poor  Cap'n  Lucy.  The  im 
plied  reflection  upon  his  hospitality,  the  conscious 
ness  that  his  own  hasty  words  justified  it,  the  re 
ceding  and  diminishing  aspect  of  the  provocation 
common  to  the  mental  vision  at  such  moments, 
with  the  magnifying  of  the  offense,  all  combined  to 
render  him  a  chopfallen  and  lugubrious  old  non- 
combatant  in  the  space  of  a  second.  But  Cap'n 
Lucy's  talent  for  open  confession  and  repentance 
was  not  more  marked  than  Kenniston's.  He»  sat 
grum,  crestfallen,  afflicted  of  mien,  but  silent.  His 
keen  eye  had  no  longer  an  alert  interest ;  it  was 
fixed  with  an  absorbed,  reflective  stare  on  an  inter 
mediate  point  some  two  feet  from  the  floor,  with 
the  air  of  insight  rather  than  outward  vision.  Ken- 
niston  was  not  prepared,  either,  for  the  protest  from 
the  younger  and  ordinarily  acquiescent  members  of 
the  family. 

"  Thar,  now ! "  exclaimed  the  apathetic  Luther, 
rising  to  the  occasion  like  a  man  of  this  world. 
"  Ye  hev  actially  got  ter  the  p'int  o'  quar'lin'  over 
yer  old  land  an'  worldly  goods  an'  sech.  An'  what 
diff 'unce  do  it  make  ?  The  line  is  thar,  no  matter 
what  air  one  of  ye  say,  an'  I  reckon  the  county 
surveyor  air  man  enough  ter  find  it.  Mebbe  ye 
'low  ye  air  powerful  interesting  but  I  ain't  list- 
enin'  much,  through  wantin'  to  interjuice  this  hyar 
plumb  special  apple-jack  I  got  this  evenin'  from 
the  cross-roads.  Ye  'lowed  ye  hed  never  tasted 


92  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

sech,  Mr.  Kenniston.  Now  try  this,  sir,  an'  ye  '11 
feel  good  enough  ter  set  out  an'  sing  psalms  an' 
hymes  an'  speritchul  chunes  the  rest  of  the  evenin'." 

Adelieia  took  a  pitcher  which  the  languid  Julia 
had  alertly  fetched.  She  spoke  for  her,  as  if  Julia 
were  dumb.  She  looked  up  at  Kenniston,  with 
her  delicately  tinted  old-fashioned  oval  face  set  in 
smiles. 

"  Ef  ye  want  ter  temper  it  enny  ?  "  she  suggested. 

"  Git  out'n  the  way,  Ad'licia,  with  that  pernicious 
jug  o'  cold  water !  "  exclaimed  Luther,  shoving  her 
aside.  "  Take  it  straight,  stranger ;  don't  spile  the 
good  liquor." 

The  feminine  members  of  the  family  had  ob 
served  that  Kenniston's  glass  was  usually  diluted, 
and  in  their  eagerness  to  facilitate  peace  they  gave 
him  no  excuse.  He  hardly  liked  to  nullify  his 
bluster  of  incipient  farewell  by  accepting  this 
show  of  good  fellowship  and  further  hospitality, 
and  yet  he  could  not  rudely  repel  it.  He  felt  that 
both  he  and  his  host  had  gone  too  far,  much  far 
ther  than  he  had  intended.  Yet  nevertheless  his 
was  not  the  nature  nor  the  practice  to  overlook  an 
affront.  He  took  the  glass,  with  a  slight  laugh 
and  the  outward  show  of  amity,  but  he  was  deter 
mined  to  adhere  to  his  threat  of  departure.  Their 
interests  were  too  adverse  to  make  a  longer  sojourn 
appropriate;  time  would  render  them  even  more 
inimical,  and  he  was  under  no  obligations  to  put 
up  with  indignities  at  the  hands  of  Cap'n  Lucy 
or  any  other  man.  Could'  he  have  thought  any- 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  93 

thing  humorous  that  affected  his  interests,  he  must 
have  been  moved  by  the  serio-comic  aspect  of  the 
old  man,  sedulously  silent  lest  his  tongue  escape 
him,  solemnly  sampling  the  new  liquor,  —  for  his 
son  had  filially  and  with  great  show  of  courtesy 
waited  upon  him,  —  a  sort  of  aged  pallor  upon  the 
wrinkles  of  his  face,  where  erstwhile  his  rage  had 
glowed  so  ruddily.  In  drinking,  Taft  had  uncon 
sciously  a  knowing  and  discriminating  air.  He 
was  comparing  the  quality  of  the  beverage  with 
the  apple  brandy  of  the  Lost  Time  still.  He  looked 
very  thoughtful  as  he  lowered  the  glass,  and  let  the 
flavor  permeate  his  palate,  and  once  more  took  a 
careful,  considerate  draught.  It  was  more  like 
business  than  pleasure.  Luther  himself  did  not  in 
dulge  beyond  the  merest  swallow  for  form's  sake. 
He  was  occupied  in  guiding  the  conversation  clear 
of  difficulties  and  bellicose  suggestions;  and,  con 
sidering  his  limited  and  uncouth  experience,  his 
efforts  to  reestablish  the  decorums  of  peace  were 
worthy  of  praise.  He  evidently  considered  that 
he  had  failed  utterly  when  Kenniston  rejoined  him 
in  the  porch,  after  the  rest  of  the  family  had  re 
tired  for  the  night,  and  communicated  his  intention 
of  immediate  departure.  "  I  can  make  the  cross 
roads  by  daylight  or  breakfast  time,  no  doubt,"  he 
said,  "  if  you  will  let  me  have  my  horse ;  and  I  can 
rest  there  an  hour  or  so,  and  then  ride  on  and  reach 
the  train,  the  night  express,  as  it  passes  the  tank 
and  stops  for  water,  about  sundown." 

In  vain  Luther  protested.     Kenniston  declared 


94  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

this  his  original  intention.  He  would  save  time, 
and  prevent  making  both  journeys  by  daylight. 
"  I  don't  believe  I  could  stand  the  sun  two  days  in 
succession,  at  this  season.  And  if  I  like,  I  '11  lie 
over  at  the  cross-roads,  and  make  another  night 
ride."  He  urged  Luther  to  say  nothing  to  Cap'n 
Lucy  or  the  other  members  of  the  family,  as  he 
did  not  want  to  combat  any  objections  to  his  de 
parture.  "  The  old  cap'n  will  think  I  bear  malice, 
and  —  really  I  must  go." 

Luther's  hesitation  in  the  matter  was  a  trifle  net 
tling  to  a  free  agent.  He  evidently  hardly  liked 
to  take  the  responsibility  of  acting  without  the 
autocratic  paternal  concurrence.  Kenniston  him 
self  felt  the  irking  of  leading-strings.  "  Cap'n 
Lucy  or  no  Cap'n  Lucy,  I  'm  going,"  he  said  to 
himself,  making  a  dash  for  liberty,  as  it  were.  "  I 
believe  the  man  thinks  Cap'n  Lucy  owns  the 
earth." 

Luther's  obduracy  gave  way  presently,  although 
he  persisted  in  saddling  his  own  horse,  also,  and 
accompanying  his  guest  as  far  as  the  cross-roads. 
Kenniston  was  oppressed  with  the  sense  of  so  punc 
tilious  a  host,  and  the  long  ride  in  the  dewy  night, 
along  the  deserted  roads,  under  the  white  silent 
stars,  would  have  accorded  better  with  his  humor 
had  he  been  solitary.  But  the  freshening  wind 
that  came  with  the  daybreak  had  a  sense  of  liberty 
in  the  broad  spread  of  its  wings.  Under  the  slow 
revelation  of  the  clear  gray  skies  of  dawn,  he 
marked  how  far  the  tumult  of  its  flight  extended 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  95 

in  the  stirring  of  the  forests  on  the  mountain  sides, 
awakening  from  the  lethargies  of  the  night.  He 
experienced  a  certain  quickening  interest  in  the 
unrolling  of  an  unfamiliar  landscape  from  the  ob 
scurities  of  the  darkness.  He  had  a  keen  zest  for 
its  beauty,  the  splendid  symmetry  of  its  setting 
amidst  a  new  and  strange  conformation  of  the 
mountains  ;  he  was  responsive,  too,  to  that  touch 
of  pensive  melancholy,  that  sense  of  loss,  which  one 
must  feel  in  noting  the  day-star  fade,  the  quench 
ing  of  that  white,  tremulous,  supernal  lustre  in  the 
midst  of  the  roseate  mists ;  but  his  strong  mundane 
heart  stirred  to  see  the  sun  sail  majestically  up 
amidst  the  full  argosy  of  scarlet  and  amber  clouds, 
freighted  with  the  future,  and  the  breathless  expec 
tation  of  the  quiescent  landscape  merge  into  the 
certainty  of  largess  to  the  present  moment.  And 
he  had  a  yet  deeper  satisfaction  :  he  noted  the  in 
feriority  of  the  magnificence  about  him  to  the  scene 
he  had  left,  his  own,  his  very  own,  and  he  dwelt 
upon  the  recollection  of  it  with  a  personal  triumph, 
as  if  he  had  himself  designed  and  built  it.  It 
was  with  an  influx  of  hopefulness,  of  content,  of 
renewed  interest  in  the  world,  that  he  shook  hands 
with  Luther,  glad  enough  to  part  with  him. 

The  mountaineer  looked  after  him  with  a  certain 
wistfulness.  His  experience  was  too  limited,  his 
idea  of  the  world  beyond  too  vague,  for  his  thoughts 
to  follow  the  traveler.  It  was  only  the  sudden  dim 
perception  of  that  fresh,  vital,  alert  turning  to 
fields  beyond  his  ken  that  smote  upon  him  with  a 


96  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

sense  of  deprivation  or  of  discontent,  too  subtle  to 
be  definitely  discriminated. 

It  was,  fortunately,  fleeting.  Luther's  satisfac 
tion  to  discover  that  old  Cap'n  Lucy  approved  of 
his  course,  and  in  fact  was  secretly  pleased  to  be 
rid  of  Kenniston's  presence,  dominated  every  other 
consideration.  As  the  day  wore  on,  the  old  man's 
jaunty  self-importance  returned.  From  various 
meditative  pauses,  in  which  he  evidently  argued 
anew  the  situation,  he  visibly  derived  self -justifica 
tion.  He  was  altogether  at  ease  and  himself  again 
in  an  indefinitely  short  time,  for  the  father  was 
hardly  more  worldly-wise  than  the  son.  He  consid 
ered  Kenniston's  departure  final.  He  assumed 
that  his  taunt  and  his  sturdy  resistance  had  bluffed 
the  man  off  from  the  design  of  processioning  the 
land,  which,  being  a  thing  undreamed  of  hitherto, 
Cap'n  Lucy  vaguely  feared,  albeit  sure  enough 
that  he  stood  well  within  his  own  boundaries.  As 
time  went  by  without  incident  or  news,  he  began 
even  to  speak  of  the  projected  hotel  as  a  thing  of 
the  past,  a  sort  of  mental  mirage  of  a  crack- 
brained  visionary. 

It  came  upon  him,  therefore,  with  the  force  of  an 
unexpected  blow  when  Luther  one  day  burst  into 
the  house  with  a  paper  in  his  hand  giving  notice  of 
the  proposed  processioning,  and  blurted  out  that 
he  had  seen  the  public  notice  posted,  according  to 
law,  at  the  voting-place  of  the  district,  which  was 
the  gristmill  on  Tomahawk  Creek. 

Cap'n   Lucy,   lapsed   in    the    soft   securities   of 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  97 

peace,  was  stunned  for  a  moment.  That  valiant 
essence,  his  temper,  of  all  his  faculties  recovered 
its  vitality  first.  He  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 
to  Sawyer's  Mill,  where,  confronting  the  obnoxious 
notice,  conspicuous  upon  the  doorpost,  he  stood  for 
an  instant  the  centre  of  a  curious  group  of  idlers, 
frowningly  contemplating  it;  then,  with  a  single 
irate  gesture,  he  promptly  tore  it  down,  in  defiance 
of  the  law.  He  silently  got  upon  his  horse  and  rode 
away,  leaving  Luther  and  the  kindly  miller  to  patch 
the  fragments  together,  and  to  replace  the  notice  as 
before,  where,  the  fractions  not  perfectly  adjusted,  it 
haltingly  and  disconnectedly  continued  to  proclaim 
the  date,  some  twenty  days  hence,  when  said  Kenneth 
J.  Kenniston  designed  to  cause  his  land  to  be  pro 
cessioned,  stating  the  corner  at  which  he  intended  to 
begin,  to  ascertain  and  establish  its  boundary  line. 
Kenniston's  absence,  however,  Cap'n  Lucy  still 
appreciated  as  a  boon.  He  was  free  to  flounder 
about  amongst  the  dense  jungles  of  the  laurel, 
"  huntin'  fur  the  line  ez  ef  't  war  hid  'mongst  the 
bushes  like  a  rattlesnake,  an'  he  mought  find  it  by 
hearin'  it  rattle,"  Luther  observed,  with  his  first 
unfilial  criticism.  Since  the  full  value  of  the 
improvements  would  doubtless  be  paid,  should  it 
be  ascertained  that  the  land  was  Kenniston's,  the 
son  could  only  think  it  a  matter  of  inconvenience 
to  be  obliged  to  move,  and  a  misfortune  to  that 
extent.  But  he  regarded  the  contingency  as  un 
tenable  as  a  casus  belli,  having  no  realization  of 
the  reserves  of  obduracy  in  Cap'n  Lucy's  mind, 


98  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

or  of  that  aversion  to  change  so  characteristic  of 
the  home-loving  aged.  He  deemed  the  surveyor 
the  fit  discoverer  of  the  line,  and  deprecated  his 
father's  long  jaunts  up  and  down  the  mountain 
from  one  "  monument  of  boundary  "  to  the  other  ; 
for  since  there  was  no  adversary  to  relish  the  spec 
tacle,  Cap'n  Lucy's  pride  did  not  preclude  him 
from  daily  patrolling  the  extent  of  his  possessions 
so  far  as  his  strength  and  his  horse's  legs  might 
serve.  But  Luther  came  to  think  this  a  frivolous 
objection  indeed,  in  comparison  with  his  view  of 
his  father's  standpoint  later. 

One  day  Cap'n  Lucy  rode  up  to  the  side  of  the 
cornfield,  a  late  planting,  where  Luther,  with  a 
bull-tongue  plough,  was  industriously  engaged  in 
"  bustin'  out  the  middles,"  since  the  land  had  been 
planted,  in  view  of  the  backwardness  of  the  season, 
without  the  preliminary  "  breaking  up."  The 
young  man  reluctantly  came  to  the  fence,  his  ruddy 
countenance  shadowy,  glimpsed  beneath  his  broad- 
brimmed  hat. 

"  Mount  an'  kem  along  straight,"  commanded 
his  father. 

Obedience,  implicit  and  unquestioning,  had  been 
Luther's  lifelong  habit.  He  looked  with  despera 
tion  at  his  suffering  corn.  "Why,  dad,  I  ain't  got 
on  no  shoes,"  he  ventured  to  urge. 

"  I  aint  keerin'  ef  ye  ain't  got  on  no  skin,"  the 
arbitrary  elder  declared.  "  Git  on  yer  beastis  an' 
kem  along  with  me." 

The  surprised  old  plough  horse  was  released,  and, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  99 

with  his  clanging  gear  still  rattling  about  him,  and 
his  owner  on  his  saddleless  back,  began  to  take  his 
way,  following  Cap'n  Lucy's  lead,  up  the  precipi 
tous  slope  of  the  mountain.  The  dark  forests  closed 
high  above  their  heads.  The  change  from  the 
glare  of  the  noontide  of  the  open  field  to  the  chill 
twilight  of  the  shade  was  grateful  to  the  senses. 
The  undergrowth  and  the  jungle  of  the  laurel 
seemed  well-nigh  impenetrable,  except  indeed  for 
the  traces  in  broken  boughs  and  bruised  leaves  of 
Cap'n  Lucy's  former  transits.  They  had  jour 
neyed  nearly  to  the  summit,  and  Luther  was  rue 
fully  meditating  on  the  loss  of  two  good  hours  of 
farming  weather,  when  the  old  man  turned  his 
head,  glanced  over  his  shoulder,  and  drew  rein. 

"Luther,"  he  said,  excitement  shining  in  his 
blue  eyes  and  the  color  rejuvenating  his  face,  "  ye 
know  that  Kenn'ston  'lows  his  southeast  corner  air 
at  that  boulder,  '  known  ez  Big  Hollow  Boulder,' " 
—  he  quoted  from  the  notice  with  a  sneer,  —  "  ez 
ef  it  could  hev  been  known  ez  a  peegeon-aig  boul 
der  or  sech." 

Luther  nodded  in  surprise. 

"  Waal,  he  gins  notice  ez  he  begins  thar." 

Luther  nodded  again  in  assent. 

"  Waal,  sir,  that  thar  boulder  hev  been  moved." 

The  young  man  stared  for  a  moment.  Then  a 
blank  alarm  settled  on  his  face. 

"  Why,  dad,  it 's  onpossible  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Kem  an'  see !  Kem  an'  see."  And  Cap'n 
Lucy  rode  on  as  before. 


100  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

Luther  was  never  sure  whether  he  really  came 
upon  the  old  landmark  earlier  than  he  expected  to 
see  it,  or  whether  the  anticipation  of  something 
novel  and  incongruous  colored  his  mind.  There  it 
was,  presently,  lying  on  the  steep  slope  in  the 
midst  of  the  wilderness,  as  he  had  always  known 
it,  —  a  vast  boulder,  weighing  many  tons,  with  a 
cavity  in  it  which  almost  pierced  through  its  bulk, 
and  was  large  enough  to  accommodate  a  man 
standing  at  full  height.  The  slope  above  was  bare, 
for  it  was  near  the  bald  of  the  mountain,  and  with 
outcropping  ledges  of  rock ;  athwart  these  several 
trees  were  lying,  one  apparently  old  and  lightning- 
scathed  long  ago,  the  others  freshly  storm-riven,  for 
the  winds  had  raged  in  a  recent  tempest,  and  in 
stances  of  its  fury  were  elsewhere  visible  in  broken 
branches  in  the  woods. 

"  The  wind  could  n't  hev  done  it,"  observed  Lu 
ther,  as  his  father  pointed  at  the  boulder  with  a 
wave  of  the  hand. 

"  Wind  ?  —  ye  sodden  idjit !  " 

"  Tears  like  ter  me  it  air  whar  it  always  war," 
said  Luther,  seeking  refuge  in  conservatism  from 
the  hazards  of  conjecture. 

"  Luther,"  said  his  father  impressively,  "  I  know 
that  thar  rock  war  the  fust  thing  my  gran'dad 
viewed  in  Tennessee,  whenst  he  wagoned  'crost 
the  range  ter  settle.  I  hev  hearn  him  say  that 
word  time  an'  agin.  He  said  he  camped  by  it, 
'count  o'  the  spring  close  by,  up  over  thar.  I  hev 
knowed  it  familiar  fur  better  'n  fifty  year,  an'  I 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  101 

tell  ye  ez  it  useter  war  around  the  curve  o'  the  bend 
o'  the  mounting  up  over  thar,  a-nigh  the  spring." 

"  Hev  ye  viewed  that  spot  lately  ? "  asked 
Luther,  drawing  his  horse  to  one  side,  and  gazing 
blankly  at  the  big  hollow  boulder. 

"  Nuthin'  ter  view,  —  jes'  rock  an'  laidges  an' 
sech." 

"  Why,  dad,  how  could  it  hev  kem  down  hyar  ?  " 
demanded  Luther. 

Old  Cap'n  Lucy  broke  into  a  high,  derisive 
laugh. 

"  Ax  Mr.  Kenn'ston ;  don't  ax  me.  I  ain't 
'quainted  with  them  things  he  talks  'bout  by  the 
yard  medjure,  —  'splosives  an'  giant  powder  an' 
daminite."  (Thus  Cap'n  Lucy  profanely  denom 
inated  a  certain  cogent  compound.)  "  Enny  one  o' 
them  would  be  ekal  ter  fetchin'  the  rock  '  known 
ez  Big  Hollow  Boulder '  down  hyar  whar  he  wants 
it  to  be." 

"  Whut  fur,  dad  ?  "  demanded  Luther. 

"  Whut  fur,  ye  fool  ?  Ter  make  the  line  run  ter 
suit  him,  ter  take  my  house  an'  lot  an'  sech  in  his 
boundary,  ter  turn  me  out  'n  house  an'  home  ter  suit 
his  pleasure.  He  can't  buy  it,  so  he  's  a-fixin'  ter 
take  it,  —  take  it  by  changing  the  corner  fur  the 
start  o'  the  survey." 

His  eyes  dilated  with  anger,  and  his  chin  shook 
with  the  weakness  of  age  and  the  vehemence  of  his 
emotion. 

Luther's  face  grew  grave.  "  That  's  agin  the 
law,  ain't  it?" 


102  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  Ter  move  corner  lan'marks  or  monimints  o' 
boundaries  air  a  felony,  that 's  whut,"  said  Cap'n 
Lucy,  cavalierly  swinging  his  feet  in  his  stirrups. 
"Mr.  Kenn'ston  hed  better  gin  keerful  heed  ter 
his  steps." 

He  grinned  fiercely  as  he  took  up  the  reins,  and, 
followed  by  the  astounded,  dismayed,  and  ruminat 
ing  Luther,  fared  cheerfully  enough  down  the 
mountain. 


VI. 


THE  roof  beneath  which  Jack  Espey  had  found 
shelter  was  the  readiest  expression  of  hospitality. 
Its  several  expansions  beyond  its  builder's  original 
gambrel  design  were  betokened  by  the  incongruity 
of  the  additions,  and  the  varying  tints  and  fashion 
of  the  warped  and  worn  old  clapboards.  Two 
shed-rooms  were  obviously  of  a  later  date  than  the 
dank  and  mossy  covering  of  the  main  building ;  a 
queer  projection  above  a  modern  porch  exhibited 
an  aboriginal  inspiration  correlated  to  a  dormer 
window,  albeit  lacking  the  aperture ;  a  section  of 
the  limited  porch  itself  was  boarded  up  to  serve 
further  as  house-room ;  and  a  valiant  disregard  of 
the  possibility  of  leakage  characterized  the  intrepid 
domestic  architect.  It  further  differed  from  the 
conventional  roofs  of  the  district  in  its  surround 
ings.  In  lieu  of  the  bare  dooryard  and  the  neigh 
boring  fields,  or  the  low  tangle  of  peach  and  apple 
orchards,  great  forest  trees  loomed  above  it,  the 
gigantic  poplar,  and  white  oak  of  the  region ;  for 
the  space  about  it  was  rugged  with  the  outcropping 
rock  that  sheered  off  further  down  into  the  great 
precipice  on  the  mountain  slope,  precluding  the 
possibility  of  cultivation.  An  exhaustless  freestone 
spring  burst  out  from  the  rocks  close  at  hand,  the 


104  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

reason  of  the  selection  of  its  vicinity  as  a  building- 
site,  and  the  "  gyardin  spot "  and  the  cornfields  were 
lower  down  the  slope  at  the  side,  out  of  view  amidst 
the  clustering  foliage.  So  little  industrial  were  the 
suggestions  that  hung  about  this  roof,  so  allied  was 
it  in,  its  rough,  gray,  mossy  aspect  to  the  rugged 
bark  and  gnarled  boles  of  the  great  trees,  that  it  too 
might  have  seemed  some  spontaneous  production  of 
the  soil,  as  it  rose  from  the  ledges  of  the  rock,  mossy 
and  gray  and  rugged,  too,  like  the  rest.  It  had  an 
intimation,  also,  of  an  aspiration  toward  higher 
things,  as  it,  like  the  trees,  gazed  out  upon  the 
environing  lofty  seclusion  of  the  mountains,  the 
very  inner  sanctuary  of  nature ;  for,  save  the  mystic 
mist,  or  the  sun  and  the  pursuing  shadow,  or  the 
vagrant  wind,  naught  ventured  into  that  vast  semi 
circle  of  mountains  and  intermediate  valleys  that 
lay  before  it,  refulgent  with  color,  massive,  mul 
titudinous,  illimitable,  the  compass  of  the  human 
vision  failing  to  trace  further  than  the  far  horizon 
the  endless  ranges  still  rising  tier  upon  tier. 

Whether  the  inmates  of  the  house  consciously 
derived  aught  from  the  scene,  from  its  calm,  its 
splendor  of  extent  that  might  serve  to  widen  the 
imagination,  its  vast  resources  of  suggestion,  one 
of  them  spent  many  idle  hours  in  gazing  upon 
it.  Often  Jack  Espey  lay  all  the  forenoon  upon 
the  hay  in  the  loft  of  the  little  barn,  watching 
through  the  bare  logs,  guiltless  of  "  chinking,"  the 
shadows  dwindling  on  the  hazy  indented  slopes, 
blue  in  the  sunshine,  amethyst  in  the  shade.  The 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  105 

white  clouds  would  sail  when  the  wind  was  fair, 
or  in  still  noontides  would  lie  at  anchor  off  the 
great  shimmering  domes.  Sometimes  these  loiter- 
ings  were  prolonged  till  the  pageants  of  sunset-tide 
were  on  the  march  along  the  great  purple  western 
slopes,  and  from  the  shipping  of  the  skies  floated 
every  pennant  of  splendid  color ;  the  sun,  with  the 
burnished  dazzling  quality  quenched  in  the  great 
blood-red  sphere,  would  go  slowly  dropping  down 
behind  the  western  ranges,  leaving  the  sky  of  a  del 
icate  amber  tint  with  scarlet  strata,  amongst  which 
incongruous  gorgeousness  the  evening  star  would 
shine  with  a  pure,  pensive  white  radiance.  The 
loft  of  the  flimsy  little  barn,  but  now  all  aglow 
with  bars  of  gold  alternating  with  brown  shadow 
as  the  sunlight  fell  between  the  logs,  gilding  even 
the  tissues  of  cobweb  and  the  masses  of  hay,  would 
sink  into  a  dull,  dusky  monochrome.  A  shadow 
would  seem  to  fall  upon  his  spirit.  The  anxiety  to 
which  the  contemplative,  languorous  idleness  had 
granted  surcease  roused  itself  anew ;  the  voices 
from  the  house,  never  silent,  were  reasserted  upon 
his  attention,  and  the  necessity  would  supervene  of 
joining  the  family  circle,  —  a  necessity  sometimes 
infinitely  repugnant  to  his  troubled  soul,  craving 
solitude  for  its  indulgence  of  woe,  and  hardly  able 
to  maintain  the  cheerful  disguise  which  must  needs 
screen  it. 

So  poor  were  his  arts  of  deception  that  perhaps 
they  would  scarcely  have  served  his  purpose  else 
where,  but  here  he  and  his  peculiarities  were  given 


106  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

scant  heed.  He  could  not  have  found  another  dom 
icile,  in  all  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  country, 
where  he  could  have  been  installed  and  have  excited 
so  little  attention  and  curiosity.  And  indeed,  to 
Mrs.  Larrabee,  the  head  of  the  house,  he  was  only 
one  more  in  addition  to  the  rest  of  the  tribe  that 
must  be  warmed  and  fed  and  housed,  or,  as  she  ex 
pressed  it,  "  tucked  away  somewhar."  She  always 
was  equal  to  the  emergency,  although  whenever 
Espey  entered  the  large  circle  about  the  fireside  it 
seemed  to  have  been  recruited  somewhere,  and  more 
numerous  than  at  his  last  survey. 

"  Ye  'pear  ter  hev  a  cornsider'ble  head  o'  hu 
mans  hyar,  Mis'  Haight,"  he  observed  on  one  occa 
sion  to  the  old  grandam  who  sat  in  the  corner,  the 
stepmother-in-law  of  Mrs.  Larrabee,  and  whose  re- 
proval  seemed  the  natural  incident  of  all  that  her 
daughter-in-law  did.  The  world  had  gone  much 
awry  with  her,  after  the  mundane  manner,  and  in 
the  evening  of  her  days  she  had  neither  the  soften 
ing  influence  of  religion  nor  the  resources  of  cul 
ture  to  mitigate  the  asperities  of  the  result. 

"  In  course,  —  in  course  !  "  she  exclaimed  rancor- 
ously,  gazing  at  him  over  her  spectacles  with  little 
dark  eyes,  the  brighter  for  exasperation.  "  Thar 's 
me  an'  my  old  man,  —  he 's  got  the  palsy,"  as  if  this 
rendered  him  more  numerous  ;  "  an'  thar  's  Jerushy, 
my  darter,  an'  her  chil'n,  five,  an'  her  husband ;  an' 
S'briny  Lar'bee  herself,  an'  her  son  Jasper.  An'  ez 
ef  that  war  n't  enough,  she  hearn  ez  Henrietty  Tim- 
son's  husband  war  dead,  an'  they  war  burnt  out  an' 


HIS  VANISHED  STAR.  107 

bed  no  home,  so  S'briny  Lar'bee  jes'  wagons  down 
the  mounting  an'  brung  'em  hyar  ter  stay,  seben 
of  'em,  —  seben  with  thar  mammy  makes  eight. 
S'briny  jes'  tucks  'ern  away  somehows,  ez  she  'lows, 
in  this  hyar  leetle  house !  "  She  sneered  tooth 
lessly,  then  laughed  aloud.  Suddenly  she  leaned 
forward,  and,  with  her  knitting-needle  in  her  hand, 
pointed  at  the  group  of  floundering  children.  "  See 
that  thar  brat,  the  leetlest  one  ?  " 

Espey,  turning  in  his  chair,  descried  a  tow-head 
bobbing  not  far  above  the  floor.  The  significant 
eye  of  the  old  woman  fixed  him  as  if  reciting  an 
enormity. 

"He  war  a  infant  whenst  he  kem,  —  a  ill-con 
venient  infant  in  arms,  with  the,  rickets  !  " 

As  the  subject  of  this  criticism  scampered  out  of 
the  crowd,  with  a  single  unbleached  cotton  garment 
on,  very  rotund  as  to  trunk,  very  fat  and  cherubic 
as  to  legs,  very  loud  and  blatant  as  to  voice,  very 
arrogant  and  impudent  as  to  manner,  the  young 
man  was  moved  to  remark  that  he  "  'peared  toler'- 
ble  hearty  now." 

"  Course  he  do,"  she  assented,  "  through  a-gor- 
mandizin'  of  so  much  fat  meat ;  scandalous,  impi- 
dent  shoat,  —  ez  well  ez  a  bear  !  " 

She  loved  a  quiet  life,  did  Mrs.  Haight.  She  had 
been  an  only  daughter.  She  had  had  only  two  chil 
dren.  She  had  always  had  her  house  to  herself ; 
and  in  this  congregation  of  incongruous  elements 
around  her  widowed  daughter-in-law's  hearth  she 
beheld  only  inconvenience,  perversity,  and  an  un- 


108  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

filial  disregard  of  her  own  very  sage  advice.  It  had 
even  been  advanced  to  exclude  her  own  daughter. 

"  Let  Jerushy's  husband  take  keer  o'  her.  She 
would  marry  him,  spite  o'  all.  Let  her  'bide  by 
her  ch'ice." 

But  poor  Jerusha's  husband  was  a  drunkard,  and 
the  forlorn  household  had  suffered  hardship  and 
very  nearly  grazed  starvation  before  they  made 
their  happy  advent  into  this  populous  haven. 

There  were  certain  sensitive  thrills  of  pride  and 
shame  in  the  fugitive's  heart,  as  he  listened  to  this 
arraignment  of  the  numbers  crowded  about  the  hos 
pitable  hearth.  He  said  to  himself,  in  justification, 
that  he  was  only  one  more  among  so  many,  but  he 
felt  that  he  was  an  imposition.  There  was  no  such 
thought,  however,  in  Mrs.  Haight's  mind.  She  re 
garded  him  only  as  a  visitor,  a  personable  young 
man,  and  moreover  as  possessing  a  certain  unique 
interest  for  her ;  for  in  her  youth  she  had  spent 
some  days  in  Tanglefoot  Cove,  and,  despite  the  wide 
diversity  of  their  age,  occupation,  and  outlook  at 
life,  they  passed  sundry  companionable  hours  in 
gossiping  of  the  people  of  that  locality,  and  detail 
ing  the  various  chances  that  had  befallen  families 
known  to  both.  During  these  sessions  he  was  wont 
to  hold  her  yarn  for  her  to  wind.  She  never  slipped 
the  hank  across  his  wrists  that  he  did  not  bethink 
himself  of  other  wristlets  destined  for  him,  per 
chance,  and  made  of  sterner  stuff.  He  was  prone 
to  be  silent  for  a  time  during  the  winding  of  the 
skeins,  but  she  improved  the  opportunity  to  talk  to 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  109 

an  attentive  listener ;  for  Sabrina  was  too  liable  to 
interruptions  from  her  various  charges  to  meet  her 
somewhat  exacting  demands  as  an  interlocutor,  and 
she  was  at  scornful  variance  with  the  other  elders 
of  the  family. 

"Mis'  Lar'bee  'pears  ter  be  fond  o'  comp'ny,' 
said  Jack,  as  he  leaned  forward,  with  his  submissive 
hands  outstretched  for  the  yarn. 

The  old  woman,  peering  keenly  through  her  spec 
tacles  as  she  sought  to  find  the  end  of  the  thread,  — 
she  had  a  cautious,  skillful,  alert  air,  as  of  a  trap 
per,  —  paused  suddenly,  her  knotted,  withered  hand 
poised  like  a  claw. 

"  'T ain't  that !  "  she  exclaimed  scornfully.  "  No- 
thin'  like  it !  Ye  reckon  enny  'ornan  in  her  senses 
likes  sech  ez  that  ?  " 

She  nodded  acrimoniously,  and  Jack,  following 
the  direction  of  her  eye,  glanced  over  his  shoulder 
at  the  turmoil  of  towheads  scuffling  together  in  the 
flickering  firelight.  Supper  was  in  course  of  prep 
aration,  and  they  were  even  noisier  at  this  glad 
prospect  than  their  wont.  One  of  them,  under 
cover  of  Espey's  preoccupation,  had  approached, 
and,  slipping  his  hand  under  the  arm  held  out  for 
the  skein,  was  venturing  slyly  to  touch  the  pistols 
in  his  belt,  with  all  the  greed  of  the  small  boy  for 
deadly  weapons.  Espey,  his  white  hat  far  back  on 
his  head,  looked  down  upon  him,  his  suddenly  scowl 
ing  face  all  unshaded,  and  the  little  mountaineer 
fell  back  affrighted  and  in  dismay  ;  for,  despite  his 
humble  estate  in  life,  he  had  encountered  few 
frowns. 


110  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

"  Naw,  S'briny's  reason  ain't  got  no  reason  in  it." 
Mrs.  Haight  had  begun  the  winding  now,  and  the 
red  ball  was  whirling,  ever  larger,  in  her  nimble 
fingers.  "  She  jes'  hed  a  son  kilt  in  the  wars. 
Leastwise  the  tale  ez  kem  back  war  that  he  war 
wounded  in  a  scrimmage,  turrible  ;  an'  his  folks 
war  all  on  the  run.  An'  he  crawled  ter  a  house 
nigh  by,  an'  the  'oman  tuk  him  in.  An'  he  died  in 
her  house  stiddier  on  the  groun'  or  in  a  fence  cor 
ner.  That  war  the  tale.  S'briny  never  could  find 
out  who  war  the  'oman,  nor  edzac'ly  whar  it  hap 
pened.  But  sence  then,  ter  pay  back  her  debt,  she 
takes  'em  all  in,  an'  whenst  they  gits  too  crowded 
she  knocks  up  a  shed  or  suthin'  an'  packs  'em  in ; 
whenst  like  ez  not  the  'oman  lef '  Alviri  ter  die  on 
the  hard,  cold  groun',  an'  mebbe  sot  the  dogs  on 
him  ter  hurry  the  job." 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  few  moments,  while  the 
firelight  flickered  upon  Espey's  absorbed  eyes  and 
intent,  listening  figure.  The  wrinkled,  parchment- 
like  face  of  the  old  woman  was  partly  in  the  shadow 
as  she  sat  in  the  corner,  but  her  spectacles  gleamed 
with  unwonted  brilliancy  as  she  actively  moved  and 
nodded  her  head  under  her  big  ruffled  cap. 

"  S'briny  say,  too,  ez  old  pa'son  Jenks  say  ez  ye 
mought  entertain  angels  unaware.  An'  /say,  then 
agin  ye  mought  n't!  Fur  ef  enny  o'  these  hyar 
that  S'briny  hev  entertained  air  angels,  they  air 
powerful  peart  at  hidin'  it,  sure !  " 

Once  more  she  cast  a  caustic  glance  at  the  group, 
and  her  sarcastic  laughter  fell  upon  the  air,  sharply 
treble. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  Ill 

If  celestial  visitants,  these  were  certainly  well 
disguised.  Espey  glanced  at  the  bloated  face  of  the 
inebriate  husband  of  Jerusha,  tremulous,  full  of  sud 
den  fits  and  starts ;  at  Jerusha  herself,  slatternly, 
slothful,  and  down  at  the  heel,  a  snuff  brush  in  her 
mouth,  and  her  forlorn  discontent  with  life  in  gen 
eral  on  her  weak,  flabby  face ;  at  the  old,  feeble 
minded  man  dozing  and  muttering  in  the  corner,  — 
he  had  once  in  his  life  worked  in  the  Lost  Time  • 
mine,  and  he  sometimes  gave  Espey  a  sudden  start 
by  bringing  out  the  name  with  a  deep,  full,  blood 
curdling  curse.  Henrietta  Timson's  thankfulness 
had  merged  into  a  suspicion  that  too  much  grati 
tude  was  expected  of  her,  and  she  was  prone  to 
magnify  the  lighter  tasks  which  she  selected,  and 
went  about  with  an  overworked  drudging  air,  and 
with  some  distinct  proclivity  for  the  role  of  martyr. 
It  was  a  furtive,  jealous  eye  which  she  cast  upon 
Mrs.  Larrabee,  at  home,  competent,  and  emphati 
cally  in  command.  The  children,  nevertheless,  were 
disposed  to  take  undue  advantage  of  their  protec 
tress  ;  and  the  smaller  they  were,  the  more  capa 
ble,  by  reason  of  her  leniency,  of  imposing  upon 
her.  This  disposition  characterized  even  an  infant 
turkey,  which  had  contracted  some  disease  by  ex 
posure  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  and,  being 
put  into  a  basket  of  cotton  to  recuperate,  found  its 
way  out,  from  time  to  time,  with  a  cotton  girdle  ad 
hering  about  its  middle,  and,  with  a  fifelike  voice, 
made  the  grand  tour  of  the  hearth,  in  imminent 
danger  of  catching  fire  in  its  cotton  gear,  causing 


112  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

her  acute  anguish  lest  it  should  be  baked  alive  and 
before  its  time. 

Even  Mrs.  Larrabee  herself,  —  if  there  were 
aught  spiritual  about  her,  it  must  have  been  in  the 
ends  of  her  fingers.  She  was  much  given  to  wear 
ing  a  sunbonnet,  in  the  depths  of  which  her  thin, 
pallid  face  had  a  look  like  marble,  with  its  keen, 
straight  features.  Her  busy  eye  had  not  casual 
•  observation  :  she  looked  at  the  children  to  see  if 
they  were  sick  or  cold  or  hungry ;  at  Jerusha's 
husband  to  descry  if  perchance  he  were  drunk 
again;  at  Jack  Espey  to  discover  if  he  wanted 
aught,  and  if  he  had  no  want  or  ailment  she  no 
ticed  him  not  at  all.  He  could  hardly  have  been 
more  free  to  come  and  go  as  he  would,  and  the  long 
hours  when  he  and  Larrabee  were  away  at  the  still 
passed  altogether  without  remark.  It  was  never 
theless  to  her  that  he  resolved  to  open  his  heart. 
The  door  was  ajar,  and  he  could  see  that  the  long, 
loitering  summer  night  had  corne  at  last.  Through 
the  gap  in  the  trees  the  stars  were  visible,  glowing 
white  above  the  sombre  mountains  in  the  distance ; 
he  could  not  distinguish  a  constellation,  —  only  a 
whorl  of  brilliant  stellular  points  of  light  in  the 
scant  interval  where  the  black  leaves  of  the  oak,  as 
distinct  and  as  dark  as  if  cut  of  bronze,  failed  to 
fill  the  space  between  the  threshold  and  the  zenith. 
It  was  not  long  now  before  she  would  be  at  leisure, 
and  sleep  would  silence  the  juvenile  members  of 
the  family,  except  indeed  the  turkey,  which,  though 
unclassified  amongst  nocturnal  fowl,  was  wont  to 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  113 

pipe  lugubriously  in  the  dead  watches  of  the  night, 
necessitating  the  uprising  of  the  mistress  of  the 
house  with  a  draught  of  water  and  a  light  lunch  of 
corn-meal  batter  to  compose  it  once  more  to  slum 
ber.  As  Espey  observed  it  gadding  about  on  its 
long  legs,  disproportioned  to  the  size  of  its  body 
even  when  begirt  with  the  cotton  batting,  he 
sagely  thought  that  Mrs.  Larrabee's  tolerance 
toward  its  exacting  idiosyncrasies  was  the  result 
of  no  sense  of  obligation  to  it  or  its  kind.  "  She  's 
a  powerful  good-hearted  woman,  and  smart,  too," 
he  said  to  himself ;  "  she  's  got  enough  sense  ter 
hev  some  feelin's." 

The  evening,  passed  in  winding  the  yarn,  wore 
slowly  away  to  him  after  his  resolve.  He  was  very 
taciturn  and  still,  and  Mrs.  Haight,  finding  so  ac 
quiescent  a  coadjutor,  grew  industrious,  and  hank 
succeeded  hank  upon  his  motionless  and  submissive 
wrists.  His  silence  did  not  discourage  her  flow  of 
words.  On  the  contrary,  it  assumed  the  narrative 
form  in  lieu  of  their  usual  dialogue;  and  as  the 
fervor  of  reminiscence  waxed,  her  small  black  eyes 
grew  brighter,  her  parchment-like  cheek  flushed, 
and,  with  her  red  "  shoulder  shawl  "  and  big  white 
cap  and  snowy  hair  and  blue  apron,  she  looked 
like  some  fairy  godmother.  And  indeed,  as  she 
briskly  wound  the  thread,  now  blue,  now  red,  and 
again  gray  "  clouded  "  with  white,  it  might  have 
seemed  that  she  wielded  some  sorcery  to  reduce  to 
this  humble  fireside  utility  this  wild-eyed,  defiant 
spirit.  The  young  desperado,  his  belt  stuck  full  of 


114  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

weapons,  was  oddly  at  variance  with  the  solicitude 
which  he  now  and  again  exhibited  when  a  trou 
blous  tangle  developed,  and  the  thread  perversely 
knotted  and  broke.  The  firelight  that  flickered  on 
his  face,  the  fairer  from  his  sojourn  in  the  sunless 
depths  of  the  Lost  Time  mine,  his  great  boots  and 
spurs,  his  pliant  attitude  and  submissive  gestures, 
and  his  aged  and  incongruous  companion  served 
also  to  show  what  speed  was  made  in  disposing  of 
the  youthful  gentry  for  the  night.  With  that  per 
verse  disinclination  for  bedtime  which  betrays  the 
old  Adam  in  the  youngest  infant,  they  severally  re 
sisted,  each  to  the  best  of  his  very  respectable  capa 
city.  One  or  two  of  tender  years,  having  been  hus 
tled  up  the  ladder  to  the  loft,  came  down  again  in 
scant  attire,  and  he  who  had  triumphed  over  the 
rickets,  and  whose  bed  was  in  a  box,  resuscitated 
himself  from  amongst  the  bedclothes  whenever  he 
was  stowed  away,  but  finally  was  overtaken,  and 
fell  asleep  on  the  old  house-dog's  neck  as  he  lay 
snoring  on  the  hearth. 

Espey  was  of  that  type  of  man  to  whom  juvenil 
ity  is  neither  comical  nou  alluring.  Duty  was  re 
vealed  to  him  in  graduated  doses  adapted  to  the 
age  of  the  taker,  and  he  was  disposed  to  make  no 
allowance  to  infants  for  delinquency.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  Mrs.  Larrabee's  patience  was  much  mis 
placed,  and  he  now  and  again  gazed  with  disap 
proving  eyes  at  the  group.  He  was  obliged  to 
linger  long  before  she  was  at  leisure  and  sitting  in 
front  of  the  hearth  with  the  shovel  in  her  hand, 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  115 

ready  to  heap  the  ashes  over  the  coals  to  keep  the 
fire  till  day.  The  two  beds  in  the  room  were  edged 
with  the  tow-heads  of  the  children,  sleeping  cross 
wise  ;  the  baby's  box-crib  and  the  turkey's  basket 
had  each  its  wonted  occupant;  and  if  the  dreams 
that  went  up  from  the  conclave  could  have  been 
materialized,  what  wild  display  of  phantasmagoria 
they  would  have  made  !  The  door  had  been  barred 
up  against  the  possible  marauder  of  the  elder's  ap 
prehension,  and  the  black  bear  of  juvenile  dread. 
The  shadows  of  the  two  loiterers  were  on  the  red, 
dully  illumined  ceiling,  two  gigantic,  distorted 
heads  of  dusky  brown. 

"  I  war  sorter  waitin'  fur  Jasper,"  observed  Es- 
pey  disingenuously,  having  noticed  that  Mrs.  Lar- 
rabee  looked  inquiringly  at  him.  "  I  reckon  he  be 
a-visitin'  down  at  Tems's." 

"  Mebbe  so,"  she  acquiesced  succinctly,  rasping 
the  shovel  on  the  hearth.  She  seemed  indisposed 
for  conversation. 

"  Mis'  Haight  's  mighty  good  comp'ny,"  he  con 
tinued,  leaning  sideways  in  his  chair,  with  his 
elbow  on  its  back  as  he  supported  his  head  in  his 
hand.  "  Talkin'  'bout  old  times,  an'  her  courtin' 
days,  an'  sech." 

For,  according  to  Mrs.  Haight's  own  account, 
she  had  been  a  truculent  heart-breaker  in  her  hey 
day.  There  were  few  names  that  one  might  men 
tion,  native  to  her  locality,  which  she  could  not 
have  worn  had  she  chosen.  She  always  alluded 
to  the  husband  slie  had  and  to  the  one 


ksavalierly 


116  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

she  had  lost  as  "toler'ble  samples  o'  the  whole 
b'ilin'." 

Mrs.  Larrabee's  immobile  face  was  more  inex 
pressive  than  before,  as  the  red  light  sought  it  out 
in  the  depths  of  her  sunbonnet.  She  had  her 
secret  doubts  as  to  this  wholesale  destruction  of 
the  peace  of  youth  a  half  century  ago. 

"  Toler'ble  interestin'  ter  me  !  "  protested  Espey 
suddenly.  "I  hev  been  sorter  in  love  myse'f  — 
leastwise  "  —  He  did  not  continue  to  qualify,  for 
Mrs.  Larrabee  turned  her  face,  illumined  by  ma 
ternal  interest,  upon  him.  "  It 's  gin  me  a  heap  o' 
trouble,  too,"  he  broke  out  impetuously,  divining 
her  sympathy. 

She  was  looking  at  him  tenderly,  remembering 
her  own  youth  and  her  own  young  lover,  dead  and 
gone  this  many  a  year.  Jacob  Larrabee  had,  in 
happier  days,  laughed  retrospectively  at  his  own 
lackadaisical  woe  and  wakeful  nights  and  anxious 
doubts.  "  Sech  a  funny  fool  I  war.  Thar  may 
hev  been  ez  big  fools,  but  I  '11  swar  I  war  the  fun 
niest."  But  his  woe  had  always  appealed  to  her 
commiseration,  and  she  was  glad  she  had  con 
sciously  been  no  factor  in  it.  "  I  would  n't  hev 
hed  ye  so  tormented  fur  nuthin',  Jacob,  ef  I  hed 
knowed,"  she  would  say  gently. 

Jack's  young  face,  worn  with  fiercer  griefs  and 
turmoils  and  keener  fears,  was  appealing  in  its  anx 
ious  lines  ;  her  warm  motherly  heart  went  out  to 
him.  He  leaned  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  as 
sumed  a  confidential  tone. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  117 

"  Now,  Mis'  Lar'bee,"  he  said,  « I  'lowed  I  'd  ax 
ye  what  this  hyar  gal  means.  I  hev  done  every 
thing  I  knowed  how  ter  please  her,  —  even  whenst 
she  tole  me  ter  go  a-perlitin'  around  another  gal. 
I  done  jes*  like  she  ordered,  an'  what  ye  s'pose  she 
done?" 

"  What  ?  "  demanded  his  partisan  confidante  an 
grily,  knitting  her  brows  heavily. 

«  She  hit  me." 

"  Did  she  hurt  ye  ? "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Larrabee 
sympathetically,  dropping  her  voice  in  contempla 
tion  of  the  enormity. 

Remembering  the  relative  proportions  and  force 
of  Adelicia  and  himself,  Espey  and  his  woe  were 
out  of  countenance  for  the  nonce.  He  laughed  a 
little  sheepishly.  "  Naw,"  he  admitted  reluctantly. 
"  She  did  n't  hurt  me  none  ter  speak  on." 

Mrs.  Larrabee's  brow  cleared.  "  Sonny,  't  war 
jes'  love-licks,"  she  suggested,  in  old-fashioned  ma 
ternal  phrase. 

"  Naw,  sir !  Naw,  sir !  "  Espey  shook  his  head 
with  grave  protest.  "  She  war  too  leetle  ter  hurt 
me,  she  war  bound  ter  know.  She  jes'  wanted  ter 
hurt  my  feelin's.  An'  she  done  it,  too." 

Mrs.  Larrabee's  face  was  all  commiseration ; 
and  suddenly  a  truly  feminine  curiosity  became 
manifest.  "  Whar  do  the  gal  live  ?  Hyarabouts 
or  in  Tanglefoot  ?  " 

However  far  a  man  may  trust  a  woman,  he  never 
trusts  her  completely.  Jack  Espey  caught  himself 
sharply.  "  It 's  fur  off,  —  mighty  fur,  'pears  like 


118  HIS   VANISHED   STAR. 

ter  me,"  he  said  mendaciously.  "  Now,  Mis'  Lar'- 
bee,  I  wants  ter  git  yer  advices.  What  ails  the 
gal  ter  treat  me  that-a-way,  jes'  'kase  I  done  her 
bid  an'  gin  the  t'other  gal  good-evenin',  full  perlite 
like  she  told  me  ter  do  ?  What  ails  her  ?  " 

"  Pride,"  said  Mrs.  Larrabee  sternly.  She  could 
be  severe  enough  with  people  whom  she  did  not 
see,  and  her  mental  image  of  a  buxom  termagant 
was  far  enough  removed  from  the  fragile  and 
shrinking  Adelicia. 

Espey  looked  at  her  with  doubtful,  troubled 
eyes.  "  Jes'  turned  on  me  an'  smit  me !  "  he  pro 
tested.  "  I  feel  like  I  '11  never  git  over  that  lick. 
I  '11  die  of  it  yit !  " 

"  Pride ! "  fiercely  reiterated  Mrs.  Larrabee. 
"  An'  ef  ye  wanter  make  her  repent  it,  ye  jes'  perlite 
up  the  t'other  gal  fur  true  !  Whenst  I  went  back 
ter  Tanglefoot  Cove,  I  'd  show  sech  manners  ez  it 
ain't  used  ter,  —  ye  'd  better  b'lieve  I  would.  That 
thar  gal  'lows  she  kin  git  ye  too  easy,  too  powerful 
cheap.  T'other  gal  good  lookin'  ?  " 

"  Waal,"  drawled  Espey  uneasily,  evidently  con 
templating  apprehensively  this  heroic  treatment  for 
the  small  smiter,  "  nobody  don't  look  purty  ter  me 
but  one,  an'  she  's  plumb  beautiful,  ter  my  mind." 

"  Oh,  shucks ! "  Mrs.  Larrabee  exhorted  him 
scornfully. 

"  T'other  gal  hev  got  the  name  of  it,  though," 
he  said  reluctantly,  plainly  jealous  for  the  preemi 
nence  of  his  lady  love.  "  T'other  gal  is  named  a 
reg'lar  gyardin  lily  fur  beauty." 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  119 

"Waal,  then,  perlitin'  'round  her  won't  go  so 
turrible  hard  with  ye,"  said  Mrs.  Larrabee  discern 
ingly.  "  Though  mebbe  ye  hed  better  let  the 
'  gyardin  lily '  inter  the  secret,  'kase  she  mought 
fall  in  love  with  ye  an'  yer  perliteness." 

But  Jack  Espey  shook  his  head ;  he  had  bit 
ter  cause  to  distrust  candor.  "  I  can't  go  'round 
warnin'  the  gals  against  me,"  he  said  sturdily.  "  Ef 
she  falls  in  love  with  me,  she  '11  jes'  hev  ter  fall 
out  agin,  that 's  all." 

He  sat  for  a  little  time  gazing  moodily  at  the 
fire,  and  contemplating  the  details  of  this  scheme 
of  reprisal.  Then,  with  a  curt  good-night,  he  rose 
and  tramped  off  to  the  roof-room,  which  he  shared 
with  Jasper  and  a  delegation  of  the  larger  boys  ; 
leaving  Mrs.  Larrabee  covering  the  embers,  and 
pausing  now  and  again,  as  she  knelt  on  the  hearth, 
with  the  red  light  on  her  statuesque  features,  to 
ponder  on  the  lover  of  her  past  youthful  days,  and 
the  sensible  advice  she  had  given  Jack  Espey  to 
reduce  the  inordinate  pride  of  the  arrogant,  ar 
bitrary  damsel  of  his  heart  in  Tanglefoot  Cove. 

But  the  bars  so  stoutly  made  fast  against  the 
door  were  not  destined  to  keep  their  place  that 
night.  The  moon  had  long  before  slipped  from 
the  vaguely  illumined  limited  space  of  the  sky, 
which  her  own  light  had  rendered  faintly  blue, 
down  behind  a  jutting  crag  of  the  western  moun 
tains  ;  it  glowed  a  sombre  purple  as  the  crescent 
passed,  with  a  pearly  gleaming  mist  half  revealed 
against  the  black  summits  about  it.  The  white 


120  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

stars,  whiter  still,  pulsated  in  the  darkening  sky. 
So  pervasive  a  sense  of  silence  was  in  their  mute 
splendor  that  even  the  benighted  mountain  wilder 
ness  seemed  to  assert  many  voices,  strange,  mur 
murous,  unknown  to  the  light.  Espey,  stretched 
upon  his  pallet  in  the  recess  of  the  dormer  win 
dow  above  the  porch,  with  his  wakeful,  troublous 
thoughts,  languidly  sought  to  differentiate  the 
sounds.  He  heeded  the  rustle  of  a  vagrant  zephyr, 
the  twitter  of  a  nestling,  the  murmur  of  the  spring 
in  the  rocks  near  at  hand,  the  never  silent  chirring 
of  the  cicada  of  the  Southern  summer  night.  But 
what  was  it  in  the  insensate  world  of  crag  and 
forest  and  mountain  and  chasm  that  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  paused,  and  once  more  sighed  heavily, 
and  again  resigned  itself  to  silence  ?  He  could  see 
in  the  rifts  of  the  clapboards  above  his  head  a  pal 
pitating  white  star,  —  how  its  heart  of  fire  beat ! 
He  felt  his  own  pulses  throb  heavily,  and  the  next 
moment  they  seemed  to  cease.  A  new  sound  in 
truded  into  the  monotony  of  the  mountain  stillness. 
He  heard  it  once  far  away,  and  then  silence. 
He  lifted  himself  upon  his  elbow  and  listened,  with 
dilating  eyes.  Only  the  sense  of  the  noiseless 
dewfall,  the  cracking  of  a  sun-dried  clapboard,  the 
swift  scurrying  of  a  mouse  amongst  the  rafters, 
and  once  more  silence,  or  that  mysterious  voice  of 
the  night  which  rose  and  fell  in  the  cadence  of 
sighs.  He  was  about  to  lie  down  when  the  sound 
came  again,  —  distinct  this  time,  unmistakable,  so 
close  at  hand  that  it  seemed  the  very  malice  of  fate 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  121 

that  he  should  not  have  distinguished  it  earlier. 
It  was  the  hoofbeat  of  horses,  and  they  came  at  a 
swift  gallop,  —  so  swift  that  he  had  hardly  a  mo 
ment  to  take  counsel  with  himself,  in  a  turmoil  of 
doubt  and  fear ;  his  foot  was  barely  on  the  stair 
way  when  a  heavy  tread  fell  upon  the  little  porch, 
and  a  sturdy  fist  thundered  at  the  door. 

Into  the  dusky  red  darkness  of  the  room  below 
—  for  the  glow  of  the  embers  could  hardly  be  reck 
oned  as  light  —  a  feeble  white  glimmer  was  steal 
ing.  Mrs.  Larrabee,  without  her  sunbonnet  for 
once,  had  hustled  on  her  homespun  dress,  buttoned 
all  awry,  and  was  striking  a  light  for  a  tallow  dip. 
Perhaps  its  dim  flicker  revealed  the  young  man 
standing  high  in  the  deep  shadows  on  the  stair  that 
led  to  the  roof-room,  or  perhaps  she  only  distin 
guished  his  step  in  the  midst  of  the  clamor  at  the 
door,  for  she  called  out  suddenly  to  him,  "  Open  the 
door,  Jack,  open  the  door,  sonny,  no  matter  who  it 
be !  Every  chile  in  the  house  will  be  a-swarmin' 
up  d'rectly  ef  that  thar  bangin'  be  'lowed  ter  go 
on,  an'  I  reckon  we  '11  never  git  the  baby  inter  bed 
agin ! " 

The  turkey  was  already  awake  and  alert,  its  pierc 
ing  pipe  adding  to  the  confusion  and  nervous  stress 
of  the  situation,  as  Jack  Espey,  after  one  irresolute 
moment,  strode  to  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Larrabee  rose 
from  her  knees  on  the  hearth  and  stood  in  the  dusky 
brown  background,  shading  with  her  hand  the  tim 
orous  flame  of  the  candle. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  Jack  Espey  that  the  bars 


122  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

went  down  with  so  resolute  and  hearty  a  clangor, 
for,  as  he  confronted  the  men  at  the  door,  they  did 
not  doubt  that  they  faced  the  son  of  the  house. 

"  Widder  Lar'bee  lives  hyar  ?  "  said  a  keen,  tall, 
dark-eyed  man,  with  high  cheek-bones  and  a  hooked 
nose,  above  which  his  thick  black  eyebrows  met. 
His  soft  black  hat  had  a  sort  of  peaked  crown,  and 
he  wore  a  suit  of  plaided  "  store  clothes,"  as  befitted 
one  having  access  to  the  towns,  but  which  were 
much  creased,  and  his  boots  were  drawn,  country 
fashion,  over  his  trousers  to  the  knees. 

"  Air  that  enny  reason  ter  bust  the  door  down  ?  " 
demanded  Espey,  looking  at  the  stout  battens  as  if 
expecting  to  discern  injury  as  it  swayed  in  his  hand. 

Mrs.  Larrabee  interposed  blandly,  "  I  be  Widder 
Lar'bee.  'T  ain't  no  use  ter  talk  loud.  I  got  some 
mighty  fractious  chil'n  hyar  'sleep." 

The  fractious  turkey  stood  upon  the  hearth  and 
piped  till  the  end  of  its  tail  quivered  with  the  en 
ergy  of  its  vocalization.  A  cricket  was  shrilling 
keenly.  The  trivial  sounds  seemed  to  throb  in  Es- 
pey's  brain  when  the  visitor  said,  "  I  be  dep'ty 
sher'ff  o'  this  county,  Mis'  Lar'bee,  an'  I  hear  ez 
thar  war  a  stranger  in  the  Cove  a-puttin'  up  hyar." 

The  two  men  behind  the  officer  looked  over  his 
shoulder,  their  bearded  faces  sharply  inquisitive. 

"  Naw,  sir,  I  ain't  got  no  stranger  hyar ;  not  but 
whut  I  would  take  'em  in,  —  me  an'  my  son  hev 
made  a  rule  o'  that,  —  but  we-uns  bide  too  fur  ofFn 
the  road."  She  did  not  account  Espey  a  stranger,  so 
accustomed  a  figure  had  he  become  in  the  domestic 
circle. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  123 

There  was  a  definite  disappointment  in  the  offi 
cer's  keen,  high-featured  face. 

Mrs.  Larrabee  turned  to  Espey.  "  Ye  ain't  hearn 
o'  enny  stray  man  hyarabouts,  hev  ye,  sonny  ?  " 

"  Thar  be  a  stranger  down  at  Tems's,"  said  Es 
pey  ;  "  though  I  reckon  he  ain't  done  nuthin'  agin 
the  law,  —  saaft-spoken  an'  perlite  an'  peaceable." 

The  high-featured  face  was  contorted  in  a  jocose 
grimace,  to  which  the  meeting  of  the  black  eyebrows 
gave  a  singularly  sinister  effect.  Espey  felt  his 
heart  sink  as  the  official  winked  at  him. 

"  Perliteness  would  have  been  wuth  mo'  ter  this 
man  ef  he  could  hev  showed  manners  sooner.  War 
mighty  onpolite  indeed  in  Tanglefoot  Cove,  Mis' 
Lar'bee,  an'  shot  a  man." 

"  Kilt  him  ?  "  she  demanded  in  a  bated  voice,  and 
turning  pale.  She  held  the  candle  awry,  as  she 
spoke,  and  the  flickering  light  as  the  tallow  melted 
and  dripped  heavily  on  the  floor  showed  only  her 
own  straight  features  and  masses  of  brown  hair, 
dulled  with  gray,  coiled  at  the  back  of  her  head. 

Espey's  overladen  heart  thumped  heavily.  The 
cold  drops  stood  thick  on  his  face,  all  in  the  shadow, 
white  and  drawn  with  suspense. 

"  In  an'  about,  —  a  sorter  livin'  death.  An'  sence 
he  hev  got  so  much  worse  his  folks  want  the  male 
factor  apprehended  straight.  We  hearn  ez  he  air 
hyarabouts  or  in  Persimmon  Cove,  one.  An'  ez  the 
constable  o'  this  deestric'  air  sick  abed,  —  ailin'  old 
cattle  like  him  ought  n't  ter  be  'lowed  ter  hold 
office  !  —  the  high  sher'ff  sent  me  ter  look  arter  him, 


124  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

ef  I  could  come  up  with  him.  Waal,"  -  —  he  was 
turning  away,  — "  I  'm  sorry  I  hed  ter  roust  ye 
and  yer  son  up  this  time  o'  night." 

Mrs.  Larrabee  took  no  note  of  this  misdescrip- 
tion.  Her  thoughts  were  engrossed  by  a  sudden 
hospitable  intention. 

"  Would  n't  a  bite  an'  a  sup  hearten  ye  up 
sorter,  arter  so  much  ridin'  in  the  night  wind  ? " 
she  drawled  amiably. 

The  deputy,  despite  his  lean,  lank,  ill-nourished 
air,  was  susceptible  to  the  allurements  of  the  pleas 
ures  of  the  table.  He  hesitated,  and  a  very  little 
urgency  sufficed  to  induct  him  into  a  chair  by  the 
side  of  the  fire,  while  Mrs.  Larrabee  ransacked  her 
stores  for  the  bite  and  sup,  which  were  more  easily 
promised  than  provided. 

He  was  new  to  his  office,  and  disposed  to  mag 
nify  its  dignities  and  difficulties,  as  he  and  his  two 
companions  waited  for  the  refection,  while  Espey 
stirred  up  the  fire  and  rescued  the  turkey,  which  had 
burrowed  into  a  mound  of  dead  ashes,  still  per 
meated,  however,  with  the  grateful  warmth  of  the 
embers. 

"  Ye  'd  be  plumb  s'prised,  Mis'  Lar'bee,  at  the  sly 
ness  o'  sech  malefactors,  an'  the  trouble  they  '11  gin. 
Now  I  be  a  stranger  ter  this  e-end  o9  the  county,  an' 
what  with  the  constable  sick  everybody  sorter  holds 
back  'bout  informin'  the  officer  o'  the  law ;  turri- 
ble  'fraid  lest  the  folks  in  gineral  takes  it  out  on 
them,  ye  know.  Some  'lows  I  be  a-trappin'  moon 
shiners  ;  an'  that  ain't  my  business  at  all.  I  got  no 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  125 

mo'  agin  moonshiners  'n  I  hev  agin  whiskey.  It 's 
all  one  ter  me.  I  don't  c'lect  the  tax,  an'  I  don't 
pay  it  nuther.  I  drinks  mos'ly  on  treats,  sech  ez 
this."  He  held  up  his  glass,  for  Espey  had  prof 
fered  the  product  of  the  Lost  Time  still,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  at  the  moment  that  the  very  jug 
looked  conscious.  "  I  could  n't  git  a  critter  ter  kem 
with  me  ter-night  'thout  reg'lar  summonsin'  a 
posse  :  one  man  ailin' ;  t'other  man,  sick  wife  ;  an 
other  man,  sore  foot ;  another  man,  lame  horse. 
Course  /could  hev  made  'em  kem,"  waving  the  hand 
with  the  glass  in  it  with  a  capable  gesture ;  "  but  I 
did  n't  want  ter  be  harsh  an'  requirin'  with  the  citi 
zens,  'kase,  ye  know,"  with  a  sudden  sly  geniality 
illumining  his  countenance,  "  I  mought  want  ter 
run  fur  sher'ff  myse'f  some  day,  —  that  is,  ef  the 
old  man  was  ter  git  done  with  the  office,"  he  added, 
mindful  of  his  tenure  through  the  favor  of  the  high 
sheriff.  "  Now  this  hyar  man,"  pointing  out  one  of 
his  followers,  who  bore  with  a  sort  of  wooden  equa 
nimity  the  united  gaze  of  Mrs.  Larrabee  and  Espey, 
"  he  be  a  stranger  hyarabouts,  too,  —  kerns  from 
my  deestric',  f  rien'  o'  mine,  —  so  o'  course  he  war  n't 
acquainted  hyarabout,  nuther." 

Mrs.  Larrabee' s  perceptions  detected  something 
embarrassing  to  a  sensitive  nature  in  this  invited 
survey  of  the  silent,  bearded  man,  who  had  not 
opened  his  mouth  except  to  put  a  biscuit  into  it.  As 
amends,  she  handed  him  the  plate  anew,  and  the 
second  biscuit  silently  went  the  way  of  the  first. 

"Now  this  hyar  other  man," — the  officer  indi- 


126  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

cated  a  short,  square-set  fellow,  —  "  he  war  powerful 
leetle  'quainted  round  hyar,  though  he  kem  from 
neighboring  ways,  the  Gap;  so  he  ondertook  ter 
p'int  out  yer  house  "  — 

The  short  man  interposed  in  great  haste,  and 
with  his  mouth  full :  — 

"  Though  I  hev  never  hed  nuthin'  agin  you-uns, 
Mis'  Lar'bee,  an'  I  hope  ye  won't  lay  it  up  agin 
me,  marm.  I  knowed  't  war  mighty  safe,  —  'kase 
you-uns  war  n't  the  sort  ter  harbor  evil-doers  'gainst 
the  law  an'  sech  ez  that,  —  hevin'  been  powerful 
well  'quainted  with  yer  husband  whenst  he  war  a 
boy ;  an'  this  hyar  dep'ty  war  so  powerful  partic'lar, 
an'  I  did  n't  see  how  ter  git  out'n  it,  an'  "  —  The 
crumbs  in  his  throat  and  the  scruples  in  his  heart 
combined  to  choke  his  utterance,  and  as  the  climax 
came  in  a  paroxysm  of  coughing  Mrs.  Larrabee 
turned  to  the  officer. 

"  I  got  nobody  hyar  wuss'n  yerse'f ,  sher'ff,"  she 
drawled,  with  a  slow  smile. 

"  Waal,  now,  Mis'  Lar'bee,"  said  the  officer,  prob 
ably  mindful  of  political  hopes,  "  ef  ever  ye  want 
ennything  of  me,  ye  jes'  lemme  know.  I  wanter 
show  ye  how  I  '11  remember  this  hyar  squar  meal 
ter-night.  I  ain't  one  o'  them  ez  can't  remember 
dinner  till  it 's  dinner  time  agin."  He  smiled  gal 
lantly  upon  her  from  under  his  superabundance 
of  brows.  Then  he  turned  to  Espey.  "  I  been  so 
well  treated  it  makes  me  plumb  bold  ter  ax  another 
f avior.  I  want  ye  ter  git  on  yer  horse  an'  ride  with 
me  ter  set  me  in  the  road  ter  Tems's.  Nare  one 
o'  these  men  air  'quainted  with  the  way." 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  127 

His  dark  eyes  hardened  under  his  sinister  black 
brows,  and  Espey,  who  had  taken  heart  of  grace, 
felt  his  hope  of  escape  annihilated  in  the  instant. 
His  eyes  were  fastened  with  a  fixed  stare  on  the 
officer's  face ;  his  nerves  were  all  a-quiver ;  his 
heart  seemed  to  stand  still ;  a  cold,  insidious  thrill 
crept  along  the  fibres  of  his  skin.  The  conviction, 
seized  him  that  the  conversation  which  had  seemed 
so  incidental  was  merely  a  blind  devised  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  him  apart  from  the  women  and 
children,  that  he  might  be  captured  with  less  ado 
or  less  danger  to  the  bystanders,  perhaps  further 
from  the  chance  of  rescue.  He  thought  of  rescue, 
himself,  of  Jerusha's  husband  blind  drunk  in  the 
shed-room,  of  Jasper  away  at  the  Lost  Time  mine. 
Through  some  other  sense 'than  that  of  conscious 
sight  he  was  aware  of  the  movements  of  the  deputy's 
comrades  :  that  one,  seated  in  the  chair,  was  care 
fully  examining  his  revolver ;  that  the  other  was 
standing  beside  the  door  with  his  hand  on  the  latch. 
But  Espey's  eyes  never  quitted  the  face  of  the  sher 
iff-,  who  apparently  took  note  of  this  fixed,  unrespon 
sive  gaze. 

"  Air  he  deef  ?  "  he  demanded  of  Mrs.  Larrabee, 
and  was  about  to  repeat  his  demand  in  a  louder 
key,  when  his  hostess  interposed. 

"No  deefer  than  them  in  gineral  be  who  ain't 
willin'  ter  hear,"  she  muttered.  "  Go  saddle  yer 
critter,  Jack.  'T  won't  take  ye  long."  Then,  in  a 
lower  aside,  "  Ye  '11  jes'  hev  ter  guide  'em  ez  fur  ez 
Tems's,  ennyhow." 


128  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Her  insistence  constrained  him ;  and  indeed  no 
alternative  was  definite  to  his  mind.  He  turned 
with  a  bewildered,  submissive  mien  toward  the 
door. 

The  chill  midnight  air,  blowing  freshly  on  his 
face  as  he  held  it  open  and  the  draught  rushed 
through,  revived  him  like  the  very  breath  of  free 
dom.  The  obvious  opportunity  flashed  through  his 
mind  like  an  inspiration.  He  could  give  them  the 
slip  while  saddling  the  horse.  He  would  have  the 
start  of  them  even  if  by  only  a  few  paces.  Let 
him  but  once  get  foot  in  the  stirrup  again,  with 
the  kindly  shield  of  the  darkness  about  him,  and 
he  would  give  them  a  good  run  through  this  path 
less  mountain  wilderness.  He  caught  up  his  sad 
dle  that  lay  upon  the  floor,  and  made  for  the  door 
again  with  a  sudden  eager  alacrity. 

He  heard  an  abrupt  clanging  noise,  as  one  hears 
a  sound  in  sleep,  muffled,  unreal,  distant.  It  was 
only  when  he  saw  one  of  the  men  stoop  and  rise 
again  and  follow  him  that  he  realized  what  had 
happened.  One  of  the  stirrup  irons  had  fallen 
from  the  saddle,  unbuckled  perhaps  in  the  unwar 
ranted  juvenile  curiosity  of  the  meddling  young 
sters  of  the  house.  The  deputy  sheriff  also  fol 
lowed.  "  I  '11  put  that  on  agin  whilst  ye  air 
a-ketchin'  an'  a-bridlin'  of  the  nag,"  he  said. 

Espey  heard  the  loud,  strident  tones  of  his  hasty 
farewells  as  he  took  leave  of  Mrs.  Larrabee,  —  he 
evidently  intended  to  return  no  more,  —  and  then 
he  was  by  the  young  man's  side  in  the  barn,  fol- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  129 

lowed  by  his  two  companions.  For  the  horse  was 
not  in  the  pasture  lot ;  he  had  repaired  to  the  shel 
ter  of  the  barn,  and  had  stretched  himself  on  his 
bed  of  straw.  At  the  first  indication  of  the  pros 
pect  of  journeying  the  roan  struggled  up,  and,  with 
a  sound.of  greeting  that  was  almost  articulate,  came 
out  from  the  stall,  ready  and  willing  to  be  saddled 
and  bridled.  Espey  experienced  a  sort  of  animos 
ity  toward  the  creature  for  his  unreasoning  alacrity. 
He  was  even  denied  the  poor  respite  which  the 
usual  delay  in  catching  the  horse  might  have  given. 
In  his  numbing,  silent  despair  as  he  buckled  the 
girth  and  slipped  the  bridle  over  the  horse's  head 
and  the  bit  into  his  mouth,  he  took  no  definite  heed 
of  his  surroundings,  and  yet  they  were  all  impressed 
upon  his  consciousness.  He  noted,  uncaring,  how 
the  horse  tossed  up  his  head  askance  at  the  stran 
ger's  touch,  when  one  of  the  men  laid  his  hand  on 
the  powerful  shoulder  and  opined  that  he  must  be 
a  "toler'ble  good  goer."  He  was  aware,  somehow, 
of  the  blue-black,  translucent  gloom  of  the  air,  and 
the  differing  darkness  with  its  effect  of  solidity,  of 
the  fodder  stack  looming  close  by,  of  the  fantastic 
roof  of  the  little  log  cabin  against  the  stars,  and  of 
a  vague  sense  of  motion  where  the  invisible  smoke 
curled  up  from  the  chimney,  faring  off  into  the 
dense  shadow  of  the  foliage  of  the  great  trees. 
The  door  was  still  open,  and  the  yellow  light  fell 
far  out  into  the  darkness ;  in  the  interior  he  could 
see  the  gaunt,  tall  form  of  Mrs.  Larrabee  walking 
back  and  forth,  and  in  her  arms  the  baby,  who  had 


130  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

been  roused  by  the  falling  of  the  spur.  The  child 
needed  little  tenderness,  in  his  robust  self-suffi 
ciency,  and  was  elderly  indeed  for  such  infantile 
coddling.  His  fat  legs  stuck  far  out  of  her  arms, 
and  his  bawling  objections  to  the  interruption  of 
slumber  attested  temper  rather  than  delicacy.  Es- 
pey  realized  how  her  heart  would  go  out  to  a  real 
trouble,  —  how  she  would  feel  for  him  if  she  only 
knew !  Somehow  the  thought  of  that  fictitious  an 
guish  of  sympathy  soothed  him  for  the  moment,  and 
he  was  resigned  to  say  to  himself  that  it  was  best 
as  it  was.  She  could  have  done  naught.  He  was 
no  child  like  the  others  to  cling  to  her  in  a  sort  of 
fervid  faith  in  her  omnipotence.  No ;  resistance 
would  only  have  endangered  her  and  hers.  And  so 
he  was  strengthened  to  put  his  foot  in  the  stirrup 
and  ride  away,  with  the  sheriff  at  his  right  hand, 
and  the  other  men  close  behind,  all  looking  alertly 
forward  into  the  gloom.  The  roan  horse,  fresh 
from  slumber,  was  beginning  to  feel  his  hay  and 
corn,  snuffing  the  quickening  wind,  pulling  on  the 
bit,  and  forging  on  at  a  more  speedy  gait.  The 
other  men  noticed  this,  for  now  and  again,  with 
a  touch  of  the  spur,  they  closed  up,  and  the  roan 
horse  was  in  the  centre  of  the  squad. 


VII. 

As  they  went,  the  deputy  sheriff's  manner  was 
little  characterized  by  an  official  decorum.  He 
seemed  rather  some  bold  roisterer  who  himself 
might  have  had  ample  cause  to  dread  the  law  that 
he  was  sworn  to  administer.  The  rough  humor  of 
his  sallies  affected  Espey  as  an  incongruous  sort 
of  fun,  taken  in  connection  with  his  interpretation 
of  their  errand,  and  his  recollection  of  the  keen, 
sinister,  thin  face,  with  its  piercing  dark  eyes,  and 
its  sharp  hooked  nose,  and  the  straight,  menacing 
eyebrows  meeting  above  it.  He  had  this  mental 
vision  distinctly  before  his  contemplation,  as  it 
had  impressed  him  in  the  flicker  of  Mrs.  Lar- 
rabee's  tallow  dip,  instead  of  the  undistinguishable 
equestrian  shadow  that  in  the  black  night  pressed 
close  to  his  horse's  flank,  and  now  and  again 
laid  a  sinewy  hand  upon  his  arm.  For  the  officer, 
in  a  spirit  of  mock  confidence,  was  detailing,  much 
to  that  worthy's  discomfort,  the  spectral  fears  of 
his  friend  from  "the  t'other* e-end  of  the  county," 
a  believer  in  ghosts,  and  making  an  elaborate 
pretense  of  sharing  them.  Now  and  again,  with  a 
sepulchral  voice  and  an  agitated  manner,  he  would 
conjure  Espey  to  say  if  he  saw  nothing  flickering, 
waving  white,  in  some  open  stretch  of  the  road  that 


132  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

- 

lay  vacant  and  vaguely  glimmering  in  the  starlight 
before  them.  Then,  hardly  waiting  for  an  answer, 
he  would  burst  into  a  whoop  of  derisive  laughter, 
startling  the  solemn  silence  of  the  night-bound 
mountain  wilderness,  and  rousing  strange  echoes  of 
weird  mirth  from  rock  and  ravine.  More  than  once 
the  uncanny  tumult  of  these  wild,  insensate  cries 
moved  the  staid  comrades  of  the  deputy  sheriff  to 
remonstrance. 

In  the  distance  and  the  night  and  their  repeti- 
tiousness,  the  sounds  seemed  curiously  unrelated 
to  those  that  had  evoked  them. 

"  That  ain't  no  rocks  a-answerin'  back,"  said  the 
man  from  the  Gap.  "  I  b'lieve  somebody  is  a-hol- 
lerin'  at  ye." 

The  officer  turned  alertly  in  his  saddle  to  look 
back  over  his  shoulder.  "  That  would  n't  s'prise 
me  none,"  said  the  capable  deputy,  whose  large  ex 
perience  would  seem  to  furnish  precedent  for  any 
given  phenomenon.  "  I  knowed  a  man  out  our  way, 

—  mighty  loud  talker  and  a  toler'ble  active  cusser, 

—  whilst  callin'  hawgs,  hed  n't  tuk  no  special  notice 
o'  the  rocks  answerin',  till  one  day  whenst  he  war 
'  dad-burnin' '  an'  '  all-firin'  '    round  till  the   very 
shoats  looked  blue.    He  stopped  ter  take  breath,  an' 
he  hearn  a  voice,  powerful  coarse,  out'n  the  woods 
jes'  yellin'  like  sin,  '  Fire-burn  ! '  '  Fire-burn  ! '  an' 
he  knowed  that  minit  who  't  war.     An'  in  course 
he  jes'  hed  n't  no  mo'  interes'  in  nuthin',  an'  jes' 
dwindled  away." 

He  paused  abruptly. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  133 

"  But  —  but  —  who  war  it  ez  said  '  Fire-burn ' 
with  a  coarse  voice?"  breathlessly  demanded  the 
believer  in  spectral  manifestations. 

"  Why,  Satan,  to  be  sure,  ye  fool,"  replied  the 
deputy.  "  I  useter  hear  him  myself  a-callin'  in  the 
woods, '  Fire-burn  ! '  whenst  Ad  Peters  would  git  ter 
cussin'  his  hawgs !  Jes'  so  "  —  He  lifted  his  voice 
in  a  wild,  fantastic  cadence,  and  throughout  the 
long  stretches  of  the  mountain  fastnesses  the  words, 
as  of  some  demented  incendiary,  echoed  and  re 
echoed,  varied  presently  with  mocking  cries  of  un 
pleasant  falsetto  laughter,  set  astir  when  the  officer's 
gravity  failed. 

The  patience  of  his  friend  had  given  way. 
"  Look-a-hyar,  'Dolphus  Koss,"  he  broke  out  angrily, 
"  this  hyar  ain't  no  way  ter  go  ter  apperhend  crim 
inals,  a-hollerin'  like  a  plumb  catamount  through 
the  woods." 

"  I  don't  want  ter  s'prise  nuthin',"  said  the  crafty 
deputy  sheriff,  "that  is  nuthin'  unyearthly,  on  its 
yerrands  what  no  mortial  knows  about,  an'  mebbe 
git  s'prised  myself  plumb  down  ter  the  doors  o'  the 
pit.  Ye  know  them  ez  sees  harnts  either  draps 
down  dead  or  loses  thar  minds,  one.  They  'low 
now'days  ez  all  the  crazies  kem  so  from  seein' 
sperits.  An'  ye  know  yerse'f,  an  off'cer  of  the  law 
needs  brains." 

"  Ef  ye  don't  know  yer  bizness  no  better  'n  that, 
I  be  goiii'  ter  1'arn  it  ter  ye.  Ye  'pear  mo'  like  a 
jay-hawker  'n  a  off'cer  o'  the  law,"  retorted  the  other 
tartly. 


134  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

But  not  even  with  this  rude  touch  upon  the  sen 
sitive  nerves  of  official  pride  could  he  control  the 
elusive  and  slippery  deputy.  "  That 's  a  f  ac',  Pearce. 
But  the  truth  is,  I  be  all-fired  'feared  in  these  hyar 
lonesome  places,  whar  humans  air  seldom  an'  few, 
o'  seem'  suthin'  or  hearin'  suthin'  what  no  mortial 
eyes  or  ears  air  expected  ter  see  an'  hear.  So  I 
like  ter  hear  the  sound  o'  my  own  voice,  —  let  'em 
know  I  'm  a-comin'.  Even  with  two  or  three  men 
with  me,  it 's  so  darned  fur  an'  lonesome !  I  'pear 
less  like  a  harnt  myself,  an'  less  apt  ter  meet  up 
with  one,  ef  I  make  myself  sorter  lively.  I  'm  a 
mighty  quiet  cuss  in  town.  I  'm  a  —  What 's  — 
what 's  that  ?  "  he  broke  off  sharply. 

He  drew  rein  suddenly,  throwing  his  horse  back 
upon  the  haunches.  The  two  men  behind  him, 
coming  forward  at  the  swift  pace  he  had  set,  col 
lided  heavily  with  the  obstacle  thus  furnished 
them,  a  reckless  proceeding  here  on  the  narrow 
rocky  road,  on  the  verge  above  the  abysses  of  the 
valley  on  one  side,  and  with  the  inaccessible 
heights  of  the  mountain  rising  sheerly  on  the  other. 
They  stood  between  heaven  and  earth,  on  this 
craggy  beetling  promontory,  with  the  pulsating 
white  stars  above  and  the  dark  depths  of  the  gorge 
below.  His  sight  becoming  more  accustomed  to 
the  night,  Espey  could  distinguish  through  the 
clear  darkness  the  fringed  branches  of  a  pine-tree 
clinging  to  the  heights  above  and  waving  against 
the  instarred  sky,  and  below  a  vague  moving 
whiteness  which  he  knew  to  be  the  involutions  of 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  135 

the  mist  in  the  valley.  He  too  had  drawn  up  his 
horse,  slightly  in  advance  of  the  others,  and  was 
looking  forward  in  keen  expectation  of  develop 
ments. 

"  What 's  what  ?  "  he  demanded  of  the  deputy, 
who  was  managing  his  rearing  horse  with  consid 
erable  skill. 

"  Something  white  —  beckonin',"  gasped  the 
officer  of  the  law. 

Espey,  with  all  the  ignorant  superstitions  of  his 
class,  felt  his  blood  run  cold.  Nevertheless  he 
sought  to  reassure  himself  and  his  comrades. 

"  Jes'  these  elder-flowers,  mebbe,"  he  said,  break 
ing  off  a  great  bough  from  a  bush  rooted  in  a 
crevice  of  the  crag,  and  so  profusely  blooming 
that  the  black  night  itself  could  hardly  nullify  its 
whitely  gleaming  graces.  He  received  full  in  his 
face  the  cool  spray  of  the  dew  and  the  sweet  breath 
of  the  flower,  all  unheeding,  for  the  officer  again 
protested  in  a  loud,  broken  voice :  — 

"  Beckonin'  —  beckonin'  —  Oh,  my  friends, 
somebody  in  this  crowd  is  a  sinner  ;  somebody  hev 
done  Wrong  !  An'  he  may  be  a  saint  in  the  church- 
house,  or  leastwise  familiar  with  the  mourner's 
bench,  —  an'  he  may  escape  jedge  an'  jury,  —  an' 
he  may  cheat  hemp,  —  but  in  the  dead  o'  the  night 
an'  in  the  lonely  paths  o'  yearth  he  '11  be  betrayed 
by  a  v'ice,  or  he  '11  see  a  beckonin'  "  — 

"  Oh,  shucks  !  "  interrupted  the  believer  in 
"  harnts."  "  I  'm  a-goin'  back  ter  Mis'  Lar'bee's." 
He  was  essaying  to  wheel  his  horse  on  the  narrow 


136  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

ledge.  "  'T  ain't  my  bizness  ter  go  'long  with  ye, 
ter  apperhend  crim'nals  in  the  middle  o'  the  night. 
Ef  ye  can't  take  'em  in  the  daytime,  go  'thout  'em, 
I  say." 

"  Some  truth  in  that.  I  wisht  I  could  jine  ye," 
said  the  deputy.  "  But  my  jewty  lies  ahead.  I 
be  bound  ter  go  on ;  an'  I  reckon  it  can't  be  so  fur 
from  Tems's  now,  —  air  it,  frien'  ?  "  he  asked, 
turning  to  Espey. 

With  a  sinking  heart,  Espey  replied  that  it  was 
not  very  far,  and  the  wonder  as  to  what  lay  before 
him  in  the  unknown  scenes  to  which  he  sped  in 
such  haste  reasserted  itself  in  his  mind,  as  the 
deputy  rode  briskly  up  alongside  once  more. 

It  required,  perchance,  only  a  moment's  reflec 
tion  on  the  inexpressible  loneliness  of  the  miles  of 
mountain  woods,  that  must  of  necessity  be  trav 
ersed  before  the  shelter  of  Mrs.  Larrabee's  house 
could  be  reached,  to  change  the  design  of  the  deserter 
from  the  little  party.  The  beat  of  his  horse's 
hoofs  annotated  his  continued  presence,  which  was 
soon  made  even  more  indisputable  by  his  raucous 
voice  again  lifted  in  remonstrance. 

"  Ye  mus'  see,  now,  'Dolphus,  ez  n'ise  an' 
ribeldry  an'  gamesomeness  don't  purvent  ye  from 
viewin'  sech  ez  ye  air  intended  ter  view.  Sech 
goin's-on  ain't  lawful  fur  citizens,  much  less  off 'cers 
o'  the  law." 

"  Ye  ain't  gone  back,  then  ?  "  commented  'Dol 
phus  over  his  shoulder. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  137 

There  was  no  answer  to  this,  and  after  a  pause 
the  facetious  deputy  went  on  :  — 

"  /  ain't  fur  hollerin'  an'  rampagin'  an'  sech. 
/  be  a  mighty  quiet  cuss  in  town,  like  I  said,  — 
a  mighty  quiet  cuss  indeed.  The  old  man,"  he 
alluded  thus  to  the  high  sheriff,  "  he  sez  ter  me 
sometimes,  '  I  dunno,  'Dolphus,  whether  ye  air  in 
yer  skin  or  no.  Ye  jes'  'pear  ter  be  settin'  thar, 
'sleep  or  dead.'  Wunst  he  tole  me  ez  I  war  n't 
mo'  lively  'n  jes'  a  suit  o'  clothes  hangin'  outside 
the  store  door,  an'  a  suit  would  cost  less  'n  my  pay 
ez  a  dep'ty.  I  tried  ter  brace  up  arter  that." 

He  had  braced  up  considerably  from  the  quies 
cent  state  he  described  if  the  sudden  yell  that  he 
emitted  might  be  received  as  evidence  of  his  more 
stalwart  condition.  The  sharp  exclamations  of 
surprise  from  the  rest  of  the  party  afforded  him 
intense  delight,  which  was  not  mitigated  by  a 
blood-curdling  shriek,  as  it  were  in  response,  set  up 
by  a  catamount  on  the  opposite  heights,  so  close  at 
hand  by  the  direct  line  across  the  spaces  above  the 
valley  through  the  air,  despite  the  intervening 
miles  of  trackless  mountain  desert  below,  that  they 
could  hear  the  creature  snarl  before  it  lifted  its 
thin,  keen,  inarticulate  voice  shrilling  again  into 
the  black  night. 

There  was  no  definite  remonstrance,  for  he  fore 
stalled  their  outbreak,  beyond  a  few  words,  by  de 
claring  tumultuously  that  he  saw  it  again,  —  some 
thing  a-waving,  a-beckoning. 


138  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

"  No  use  talkin' !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  The  guilty 
sinner  is  'mongst  us,  an'  hyar  he  be !  " 

He  leaned  out  of  his  saddle  and  passed  one  arm 
around  Espey,  pinioning  the  young  fellow's  right 
arm  to  his  side.  Espey,  startled  beyond  control, 
despite  his  expectation  of  this  contingency,  with 
which,  however,  hope  and  suspense  had  juggled 
painfully,  detected  with  sharpened  senses  the  dull 
clanking  of  handcuffs.  He  hardly  knew  how  it 
came  there,  he  had  no  definite  intention  of  resist 
ing  arrest,  but  a  pistol  was  in  the  hand  over  which 
the  rude  wristlets  dangled ;  a  jet  of  red  light  that 
showed  the  dark-eyed,  laughing,  grimacing  face 
near  to  his  own,  the  whizzing  of  a  bullet  so  close 
between  the  officer's  side  and  arm  that  the  blazing 
powder  singed  and  burned  his  "  store  clothes,"  an 
abrupt  report,  and  once  more  the  night,  rent  by  the 
sound,  clamored  with  echoes. 

From  the  dense  darkness  the  officer's  voice,  with 
a  changed  tone,  a  sharp  note  of  surprise,  was  cry 
ing,  "  Look  out !  Look  out !  " 

The  other  men  were  stunned  with  amazement. 
They  had  only  a  vague  sense  of  struggling  mounted 
figures  which  the  darkness  did  not  suffer  them  to 
descry.  And  suddenly  a  second  swift  funnel- 
shaped  glare  for  an  instant  invaded  the  gloom,  — 
it  came  from  the  officer's  pistol  this  time,  —  a  sec 
ond  clamorous  report  rang  amongst  the  rocks. 
The  frightful,  almost  human  scream  of  a  wounded 
horse,  a  wild  plunging  on  the  side  of  the  rocky 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  139 

bridle-path,  and  Espey  and  the  yellow  roan  disap 
peared  over  the  verge  of  the  cliff.  The  three  men 
standing  in  the  road,  hearing  with  sickening  hor 
ror  the  dull  thud  far  below,  might  judge  of  the 
terrors  of  the  fall  by  the  time  elapsing  before  the 
sound  reached  their  ears. 


VIII. 

THE  household  at  the  Terns  cabin  were  keep 
ing  late  hours  that  night.  Except  for  a  certain 
reserve  of  cogitation,  which  at  times  held  him  silent 
with  a  burning  thought  in  his  eye,  his  superficially 
moving  lips  framing  unspoken  words,  and  occa 
sionally  a  keen,  sarcastic  smile  irradiating  his 
features  with  the  light  of  some  satiric  expectation, 
Cap'n  Lucy  had  resumed  his  wonted  aspect  and 
mental  attitude  and  the  habits  of  his  simple 
existence. 

"  Ye  fetch  yer  book  out'n  yer  pocket,"  he  said 
imperatively  to  Jasper  Larrabee  early  in  the 
evening,  when  the  young  man  had  joined  them  on 
the  porch.  "  The  gals  ain't  goin'  ter  run  away,  — 
leastwise  'thout  cornsider'ble  mo'  incouragewmtf  'n 
they  hev  hed.  They  '11  keep  !  Ye  jes'  sot  awhile 
by  that  thar  taller  dip  in  thar  an'  read  yer  book, 
an'  I  '11  listen  out  hyar." 

The  penalties  of  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
from  the  days  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  to  those  of 
the  hero  of  the  horn-book,  have  not  been  few. 
They  fell  somewhat  heavily  on  Jasper  Larrabee, 
debarred  the  fresh  air,  heavy  with  perfumed  dew ; 
the  vidinage  of  dank  vines;  the  glimmer  of  the 
firefly  in  the  bosky  gloom;  the  scintillating  stars 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  141 

in  the  sky  above  the  massive  mountains ;  the 
sweet,  low  voices  of  the  two  girls,  silenced  now; 
and  the  trivial  chatter  so  dear  to  the  heart  of 
youth.  The  room,  with  the  low  red  glow  of  the 
embers,  was  warm  to-night ;  the  tallow  dip  melted 
and  sputtered  and  cast  a  wan,  melancholy,  ineffec 
tive  radiance  into  the  dusky  spaces,  rendering  the 
aspect  of  the  familiar  furnishings  strange  and 
spare  and  dull,  instead  of  all  ruddily  a-flicker  with 
the  dancing  firelight  in  which  he  was  accustomed 
to  see  them.  Even  the  dogs  had  deserted  the 
hearthstone,  and  went  in  and  out  with  lolling 
tongues,  and  hot,  sleepy  eyes,  and  an  inattentive 
manner.  Moths  and  strange  winged  fire-worship 
ers,  unknown  to  his  observation  hitherto,  would  fly 
in  from  the  cool  darkness  without,  circle  swiftly 
about  the  white  jet  of  the  candle,  and  now  and 
then,  with  a  sudden  dart,  would  fall,  shriveled  cin 
ders  but  for  the  convulsive  throes  of  lingering  life, 
on  the  page  of  the  volume. 

He  wondered  sometimes,  as  he  droned  on  and 
on,  if  Adelicia  were  listening,  or  if  Julia  could  see 
him  from  where  she  sat.  From  the  lighted  spaces 
he  could  not  distinguish  their  shadowy  figures, 
albeit  Cap'n  Lucy,  close  at  hand  and  with  the 
red  glow  of  his  pipe,  was  plain  enough.  Some 
times  Larrabee  felt  the  vague  sense  of  a  gaze  fixed 
upon  his  clear-cut  face,  all  etherealized,  illumined 
by  the  soft  pallid  white  light  within  against  the 
brown  shadows.  He  was  unaware  of  any  valid  em 
bellishment  of  his  aspect  from  the  pensive  gleam, 


142  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

the  irradiated  square  of  the  window,  the  ascetic 
gravity  of  his  expression,  intent  and  pondering  on 
the  longer  words,  which  it  was  his  pride  that  he 
need  not  pause  to  spell.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
often  conscious  of  cutting  a  sorry  figure  when 
Cap'n  Lucy,  with  the  rigor  of  a  most  rational  rea 
son  and  all  the  fervid  insistence  of  a  personal  in 
terest,  would  plunge  at  him,  and  require  him  to 
recant,  to  spell  out  syllable  by  syllable  some  ques 
tioned  dogma,  and  at  last,  with  all  the  nonchalance 
of  a  sophisticated  theologian,  take  refuge  in  the 
equivalent  of  a  plea  of  mistranslation. 

"  Ye  can't  haffen  read,  boy  !  "  he  would  exclaim 
roughly.  "  Ye  don't  read  ekal  ter  what  ye  hev 
done.  Keep  on  goin'  back'ards,  an'  ye  '11  git  thar 
arter  a  while.  '  Agree  with  thine  adversary  !  ' 
My  stars  !  ef  ye  war  wuth  a  grain  o'  gunpowder, 
ye  could  see  ez  that  air  obleeged  ter  be  '  Dis 
agree  with  thine  adversary.'  It  stands  ter  reason ! 
4  Z>is-agree  '  with  him,  early  and  often,  else  the 
dad-burned  critter  will  git  up  the  insurance  ter 
disagree  with  you-uns.  I  know  thine  adversary! 
Been  'quainted  with  him  this  many  a  year !  Read 
on,  read  on,  Jasper ;  git  shet  o'  thine  adversary." 

Thus  it  was  that,  with  the  shadowy,  snarling, 
intent  old  face  vaguely  visible  in  the  dusk,  just  at 
his  elbow,  outside  the  window,  ready  to  spring  for 
ward  at  the  first  intimation  of  an  unacceptable  doc 
trine  ;  with  the  sense  of  responsibility  for  all  the 
biblical  dogmas  irreconcilable  with  Cap'n  Lucy's 
tenets  and  the  tenor  of  his  way ;  with  the  spectacle 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  143 

of  glamour,  lure,  catastrophe,  and  death  furnished 
by  the  unrestrainable  moths,  Jasper  Larrabee 
found  his  preeminence  of  learning  a  comfortless 
pinnacle,  and  even  the  wonted  sweet  solaces  of  com 
placence  in  his  superiority  were  denied  him.  He 
was  forced  to  appear  before  the  eyes  of  his  lady 
love  as  an  ignorant  pretender,  of  ridiculous  and 
inadequate  assumptions,  —  and  that  by  a  man  who 
could  not  read  his  own  name,  —  humiliated  and 
browbeaten ;  for  how  dared  he  answer  Cap'n 
Lucy?  More  than  once  he  wished  himself  back 
at  the  Lost  Time  mine,  where  he  knew  Espey 
thought  him  to  be,  and  where  Lorenzo  Taft  needed 
him.  The  work,  unpalatable  as  he  often  found 
it,  would  be  welcome  indeed,  and  his  untutored, 
unquestioning,  often  inattentive  audience  there  a 
happy  exchange  from  Cap'n  Lucy  in  the  charac 
ter  of  polemic.  He  made  some  effort  to  shift  the 
subject,  to  turn  from  the  preceptive  and  doctrinal 
pages  upon  which  he  had  chanced  to  fall  to  the 
chronicle  of  events  in  the  nature  of  historical 
detail,  as  less  liable  to  elicit  Cap'n  Lucy's 
contradictory  faculties.  It  availed  him  naught. 
Cap'n  Lucy's  interest  was  fairly  roused,  and  he 
imperatively  negatived  the  proposition.  The  guest 
felt,  still  later,  that  it  was  not  hospitality  in  its 
truest  sense  which  so  flatly  declined  to  heed  the 
suggestion  of  departure.  And  thus  constrained, 
he  read  on,  so  conscious  of  the  shadowy  face  at  his 
elbow  that  he  seemed  to  see  it,  with  the  light  of 
excitement  in  the  wide  blue  eyes,  the  alertness  in 


144  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

every  line,  the  lips  intently  parted,  the  glow  of  the 
pipe  dying  out  as  it  was  supported  motionless  by 
the  uplifted  hand. 

"  Hey !  "  shrieked  out  Cap'n  Lucy  suddenly,  as 
if  he  had  been  poignantly  pinched.  "  Ef  he  takes 
yer  coat,  gin  him  yer  cloak!  Jasper,  ye  air  de 
mented  !  Ye  ain't  'quainted  with  the  dad-burned 
ravelings  out  o'  the  alphabit,  let  alone  the  weft  of 
it !  My  sakes ! "  in  an  outraged  falsetto,  "  ye 
tell  me  that 's  sot  up  ez  Christian  doctrine  in  the 
Book !  Take  yer  coat,  gin  yer  cloak  !  Whar  's 
the  man  ez  hev  done  it!  Trot  him  out!  Great 
Moses  an'  Aaron  !  I  'd  like  ter  look  at  him  !  Take 
yer  corner-stone  an'  monimint  o'  boundary,  an'  gin 
him  yer  line  an'  yer  Ian' !  —  ha !  ha !  ha !  Let 
him  take  yer  rock  known  ez  Big  Hollow  Boulder, 
an'  gin  him  yer  corner-stone  !  —  ha !  ha  !  " 

Luther  rose  precipitately.  The  significance  of 
the  paternal  discovery  of  the  removal  of  the  cor 
ner-stone  was  fraught  with  great  perplexity  and 
foreboding,  and  he  hardly  knew  what  ill-judged 
disclosure  was  to  follow.  He  had  intended  to  in 
terpose,  albeit  he  scarcely  had  a  pretext.  It  came 
to  him  at  the  moment. 

"What's  that?  I  'lowed  I  hearn  suthin' ! " 
he  exclaimed. 

Cap'n  Lucy  turned  upon  him  with  the  breath 
less  acrimony  of  one  interrupted  in  some  cherished 
pursuit. 

"Hearn  suthin'?  Jes'  the  rustlin'  o'  yer  own 
long  ears,  —  that 's  all.  I "  —  He  stopped  ab 
ruptly. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  145 

In  the  midst  of  his  strident  raised  tones  an  alien 
sound  smote  his  attention.  There  was  an  approach 
of  horsemen  from  down  the  road.  Cap'n  Lucy's 
acrimony  was  merged  in  curiosity  and  excited 
expectation.  Still  holding  his  pipe,  filled  with 
dead  ashes,  as  stiffly  and  cautiously  before  him  as 
if  its  wonted  coals  glowed  in  the  cob-bowl,  he  rose 
from  his  chair,  and  advanced  a  pace  or  two  nearer 
the  rude  steps,  peering  out  into  the  darkness.  The 
two  girls  had  turned  their  heads  toward  the  sound. 
Larrabee  was  leaning  on  his  arms  in  the  window, 
and  Luther  had  started  down  the  path  to  the  bars. 
His  deep  bass  voice  sounded  in  a  bated,  thunder 
ous  mutter,  as  he  rebuked  the  barking  dogs,  whose 
menace  subsided  into  low  growls,  punctuated  now 
and  then  by  a  clamorous  yelp.  Perhaps  the  insist 
ent  tone  of  these  canine  threats  influenced  the  new 
comers,  for  it  was  at  a  goodly  distance  that  the 
party  called  a  halt  and  hailed  the  house. 

Luther  returned  the  halloo  with  a  ringing  re 
sponse  in  kind,  but  Cap'n  Lucy  added  a  genial 
"'Light  and  hitch"  to  the  unknown  guest  that 
the  midnight  had  convoyed  hither,  his  habit  of 
broad  hospitality  all  unmindful  of  the  individ 
uality  or  intent  of  the  new-comers.  "  Me  an' 
Luther  air  ekal  ter  all  sorts,"  he  would  sturdily 
answer  to  the  occasional  remonstrance  that  times 
were  not  what  they  once  were,  and  that  he  might 
thus  "  at  sight  unseen  "  be  inviting  in  the  marau 
der  or  the  devil.  "Me  an'  Luther  air  ekal  ter 


146  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

The  tone  of  this  hospitality  seemed  a  sore-needed 
encouragement  in  this  instance.  Rodolphus  Ross 
had  flung  himself,  metaphorically,  upon  the  frater 
nal  bosom  of  Luther,  as  he  hastily  sought  to  sum 
marize  the  misfortunes  that  had  befallen  him; 
the  slow  young  mountaineer,  all  unprepared  for 
so  dramatic  a  recital,  staring,  uncomprehending 
and  amazed,  at  his  interlocutor,  hardly  knowing 
whether  to  ascribe  his  fluent  diction  to  drink  or  to 
histrionic  talents ;  as  fact  he  did  not  take  it  into 
account. 

"  Yes,  sir !  "  the  wild-eyed  Ross  was  saying  as  he 
came  up  the  steps,  "  flung  over  the  bluffs,  horse  an' 
all,  —  dead  or  alive,  I  dunno !  Cap'n  Terns,  yes, 
sir;  plumb  proud  ter  shake  hands,"  mechanically 
acknowledging  the  introduction  to  the  head  of  the 
house.  "  Jes'  purtendin'  ter  handcuff  the  fool,  — 
jes'  fur  fun,  —  an'  he  fired  at  me !  Yes,  sir,  fired 
at  the  off'cer  o'  the  law  !  I  dunno  what  ailed  him, 
'thout  he  thunk  I  war  in  earnest.  But  Lord !  he 
war  bound  ter  know  I  war  arter  another  man.  I 
tole  him  so.  I  hed  nuthin'  agin  this  hyar  Lar'- 
bee.  I  war  jes'  purtendin'  ter  handcuff  him,  jes' 
shuck  the  bracelets  at  him,  jes'  fur  fun,  —  ye  know, 
Cap'n  Terns,  it 's  powerful  dull  an'  drowsy  a-ridin' 
so  stiddy  arter  malefactors  'thout  no  sort'n  enter 
tainment  or  enjyemint,  —  an'  this  hyar  Jasper  Lar'- 
bee  jes'  ups  an'  fires  at  the  off'cer  o'  the  law,  jes' 
scorched  my  clothes."  He  held  up  his  arm,  and 
caught  the  pallid  light  of  the  candle  on  his  coat 
and  powder-singed  sleeve.  "  Not  that  I  keer  fur 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  147 

the  josie,  'ceptin'  it 's  too  durned  near  the  meat  fur 
thar  ter  be  enny  fun  in  shootin'  through  it." 

He  laughed  in  a  constrained  falsetto  tone,  —  his 
wonted  laugh,  but  with  all  the  mirth  eliminated 
from  it.  It  had  a  sort  of  wooden  quality,  and 
ended  with  a  nervous  catch  in  his  throat.  The 
light  falling  through  the  window  showed  his  dark 
eyes,  set  a  trifle  too  close  together,  and  the  straight 
black  brows  meeting  above  them.  His  teeth 
gleamed,  for  the  laugh  left  his  lips  mechanically 
distended.  Larrabee,  leaning  on  his  folded  arms 
in  the  window,  a  mere  silhouette  upon  the  pallid 
lustre  of  the  aureola  of  the  candle  behind  him, 
gazed  silently  on  the  stranger's  face. 

One  is  apt,  in  thinking  of  a  man  of  experience, 
to  associate  sophistication  with  the  idea.  But  life 
presents  varied  aspects  of  mental  development,  and 
the  caution,  the  silence,  the  reserve  of  judgment, 
with  which  Cap'n  Lucy  hearkened  might  have 
seemed  gleaned  from  the  observation  of  the  juggle 
of  cause  and  effect  in  a  far  wider  sphere.  The  two 
comrades  of  the  deputy  sheriff  said  not  a  word,  and 
once  more  the  officer  began  to  elaborate  the  justifi 
cation  of  his  conduct. 

"  It  takes  a  toler'ble  stiff  backbone  ter  set  on  a 
saddle  an'  let  a  man  shoot  at  ye  fur  nuthin'.  It 
'stonished  me  powerful.  I  war  jes'  funnin',  an' 
purtended  ter  be  aimin'  ter  handcuff  this  young 
rooster,  an'  he  jes'  whurled  roun'  an'  let  the  bullet 
fly.  I  b'lieve  he  'lowed  I  war  in  earnest,  yes,  sir. 
This  hyar  Lar'bee  hev  been  up  ter  suthin'  agin  the 


148  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

law,  —  moonshinin',  I  reckon,  —  else  he  would  n't 
hevbeenso  dad-burned  handy  with  his  fi'crackers." 

"  Why  —  why  "  —  blurted  out  Luther,  amazed  at 
the  lack  of  symmetry  in  the  situation,  and  incapable 
of  the  paternal  wisdom  of  silently  awaiting  develop 
ments,  with  the  incongruity  of  the  sight  of  Larra- 
bee  in  the  window  mutely  hearkening  to  the  reflec 
tions  upon  the  "  Larrabee  "  who  took  so  vehement 
a  part  in  the  officer's  reminiscences  —  "  't  war  n't 
Lar'bee,  mebbe ;  some  other  fellow." 

"  Naw,  sir,"  returned  the  deputy.  "  This  hyar 
man,"  laying  his  hand  on  his  bulky  companion's 
shoulder,  "  knowed  whar  Lar'bee's  mother,  a  wid- 
der  lady,  lived,  an'  we-uns  called  him  '  Lar'bee  '  an' 
4  Jasper,'  an'  he  answered  ter  'em  both ;  an'  his 
mother  called  him  c  Sonny.'  He  's  a  wild-catter, 
sure.  He  's "  —  He  caught  himself  suddenly,  re 
membering  the  prepossession  against  the  revenue 
force  which  often  animates  even  law-abiding  citi 
zens  of  this  region.  "  But  he  need  n't  hev  fired  at 
me  I  I  got  nuthin'  agin  moonshiners.  I  b'long  ter 
the  County,  not  ter  the  Nunited  States,  —  to  the 
County ! " 

"  Whar 's  this  man  now  ?  "  demanded  Cap  'n 
Lucy  circumspectly. 

The  alert,  sinister  face  of  the  deputy  changed. 
But  he  sought  to  bluff  off  the  anxieties  and  con 
scious  criminations  which  crowded  upon  him.  He 
swung  his  hat,  which  had  a  bullet-hole  in  it,  gayly 
in  his  light  grasp,  and  his  dark  eyes  twinkled  as  he 
met  the  gaze  of  his  host. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  149 

"  Ye  air  a  powerful  good  hand  at  axin'  riddles, 
but  this  'n  air  too  hard  fur  me  !  I  dunno,  an* 
these  men  dunno  !  I  fired  back  in  self-defense  at 
the  miser' ble  fool  —  I  hed  been  funnin'  all  along, 
cap'n.  I  shot  his  horse,  I  know,  an'  the  critter 
slipped,  an'  the  whole  caboodle  went  back'ards 
over  the  bluffs  —  an'  —  an'  —  he  mought  be  dead 
or  alive  —  Air  —  air  that  a  cheer  ?  " 

He  had  suddenly  lost  his  self-control ;  he  sank 
back  into  a  seat  and  seemed  gasping  for  breath. 

The  details  of  their  immediate  errand  thus  de 
volved  upon  his  comrades,  —  a  lantern  and  a  guide 
to  search  the  slope  where  the  victim  of  the  deputy's 
pleasantry  had  fallen. 

"  'Dolphus  air  sech  a  turrible  bouncin'  wild 
buck,"  said  his  friend  from  "  the  t'other  e-end  o'  the 
county,"  who  had  begun  to  resume  his  remonstrant 
air,  as  of  "  I-told-you-so."  He  was  a  slow  and 
serious-minded  man,  with  a  scant  appreciation  of 
even  the  most  symmetrical  jest,  but  when  the  joke 
seemed  furnished  with  such  distortions  of  sequel® 
his  gravity  grew  aggressive.  "  'Dolphus  kin  crack 
a  toler'ble  funny  joke  wunst  in  a  while,  but  this 
hyar  one  air  goin'  ter  make  him  laff  on  the  t'other 
side  o'  his  mouth." 

"  Who  war  it  ez  ye  war  arter,  sure  enough  ? " 
asked  Cap'n  Lucy. 

"  A  stranger  what  they  'lowed  war  puttin'  up 
with  you-uns,  Cap'n  Terns." 

"  Hey  ?  "  cried  Cap'n  Lucy,  with  a  high  quaver 
of  excited  delight.  "  He  hev  gone  ;  but,  my  stars ! 


150  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

what  a  hearty  welcome  ye  mought  hev  hed  with 
him ! " 

"  What 's  he  done  ?  "  demanded  Larrabee,  speak 
ing  for  the  first  time,  addressing  the  friend  of  the 
deputy. 

"  Shot  a  man  in  Tanglefoot  Cove,"  he  replied, 
looking  somewhat  intently  at  the  silhouette  in  the 
window. 

"  What  did  ye  'low  his  name  war  ?  "  asked  Lar 
rabee,  placing  one  hand  behind  his  ear  as  if  he  had 
not  heard  what  indeed  they  had  not  disclosed. 

"  Espey,  —  John  Espey  from  Tanglefoot,  o' 
course.  He  hev  been  hidin'  out  cornsider'ble 
time." 

There  was  a  sudden  significant  silence  which  the 
stranger  felt,  but  did  not  comprehend.  Then 
Cap'n  Lucy,  recovering  his  poise,  remarked  :  — 

"  Waal,  the  stranger  ez  we-uns  hev  hed  hyar  air 
named  Kenneth  Kenn'ston,  from  Bretonville.  He 
air  a  town  man,  an'  aimin'  ter  build  some  sort'n 
tavern  in  the  Cove." 

The  three  men  —  for  the  officer  was  himself 
again  —  looked  at  one  another  with  the  pathetic 
helpless  disgust  of  hunting  dogs  on  a  false  trail. 

It  seemed  that  their  quest  was  hopeless  from  the 
beginning,  and  in  its  interests  they  had  deeply  in 
volved  themselves  in  the  toils  of  the  law  which 
they  sought  to  aid. 

"  Waal,"  said  the  deputy's  friend,  "  we-uns  hed 
better  git  the  lantern,  an'  take  ter  the  woods  agin 
an' find  the  corpse," — the  deputy  winced  at  the 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  151 

word  so  palpably  that  even  his  sturdy,  literal- 
minded  companion  was  moved  to  seek  some  euphe 
mism  ;  "  leastwise  find  out  what 's  the  damage 
we-uns  hev  been  an'  done." 

His  stolid,  unflinching  shouldering  of  such  re 
sponsibility  in  the  matter  as  might  fall  to  his  share 
was  oddly  contrasted  with  the  nervous  excitement 
and  agitation  of  the  man  from  the  Gap,  who  had 
served  as  guide  to  the  party  to  Mrs.  Larrabee's 
house. 

"  Waal,  /  ain't  done  none  o'  the  damage,"  he 
protested,  nodding  his  head  emphatically.  "  I 
thunk  I  hed  ter  kem  along  o'  the  off 'cer  o'  the  law 
whenst  required.  I  hed  no  idee  o'  junketin'  'roun' 
with  the  wildes'  buck  this  side  o'  hell,  a-caperin' 
like  a  possessed  lunatic,  an'  a-shootin'  of  'spectable 
citizens  off'n  the  bluffs.  Jasper  Lar'bee  done 
nuthin'  ter  me,  —  never  laid  eyes  on  him  afore.  / 
done  none  o'  the  damage.  I  call  ye  ter  witness, 
Cap'n  Terns,  ez  I  hed  nuthin'  ter  do  with  his  takin' 
off." 

Cap'n  Lucy,  always  adorning  the  opposition,  gave 
a  high,  fleering  laugh.  "  Me  ter  witness  !  Me  ! 
Why,  man,  I  been  settin'  hyar  sence  dark,  a-readin' 
o'  the  Holy  Scriptur's.  I  hev  no  part  in  yer  ridin' 
an'  raidin'." 

That  repulsion  to  the  idea  of  taking  life,  and  all 
its  ramifications  of  moral  responsibility,  apart  from 
the  legal  consequence,  natural  to  the  civilized  man, 
had  yielded  in  the  deputy  sheriff  to  his  habitual 
mental  impulses.  His  wild,  fierce,  shallow  person 
ality  was  in  the  ascendant  once  more. 


152  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  I  '11  guarantee  ye,  Bob,"  he  declared,  with  his 
wonted  swift  smile  of  dark  eyes  and  red  lips  and 
lifted  meeting  eyebrows.  "  Ef  the  g'loot  is  dead, 
he  died  resistin'  arrest  by  the  off'cer  o'  the  law. 
Ef  he  be  'live,  I  be  durned  ef  he  don't  hev  cause 
ter  resist  the  off'cer  o'  the  law,  fur  I  '11  swar  ter 
glory  I  '11  nose  out  what  this  hyar  Jasper  Lar'bee 
hev  been  a-doin'  of  ter  be  so  monst'ous  afeard  o' 
the  bracelets  bein'  put  onto  him,  —  murder  or 
moonshinin',  it 's  all  the  same  ter  me.  I  '11  set 
the  bloodhounds  o'  the  law  onto  him,  sure !  He 
hain't  gin  me  sech  a  skeer  ez  this  fur  nuthin' !  " 

As  the  blood  came  surging  hotly  along  its  ac 
customed  channels,  his  fury  mounted  higher.  It 
jumped  with  his  humor  to  threaten  as  living  the 
man  who  he  feared  was  dead.  He  sought  to  spurn 
that  possibility  from  his  consciousness.  It  re 
newed  his  confidence  in  himself,  too,  to  protest  so 
jauntily  that  if  the  man  had  lost  his  life  it  was 
in  resisting  the  law  legitimately  enforced.  He  re 
viewed,  with  a  burst  of  anger,  the  fright  of  the 
other  two  men  and  his  own  anxiety  that  had  suf 
fered  this  lapse  of  attention  to  his  own  interest, 
and  allowed  the  true  detail  of  the  case  to  be  re 
hearsed  here  publicly.  Naught  could  obliterate 
this ;  naught  could  justify  him  save  to  prove  that 
the  surprised  Jasper  Larrabee  had  been  guilty  of 
some  offense  against  the  law,  and  was  resisting 
arrest  legally  attempted. 

"I'll  fix  him!  I'll  follow  him  like  a  blood 
hound  !  I  '11  nose  him  out  and  pull  him  down  ! 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  153 

Bless  God,  I  will !  "  he  cried  out  with  sudden 
vehemence.  Then  he  turned  roughly  to  his  two 
companions.  "  Kem  on,  ye  two  mud-turkles  !  Ye 
got  jes'  about  ez  much  life  an'  sperit  ez  a  couple  o' 
old  tarripin.  Stir  yer  stumps,  bubby,"  to  Luther. 
"  Git  yer  lantern,  an'  bring  yer  slow  bones  along 
ter  aid  the  ofPcer  o'  the  law !  An'  ye,  too,  my 
frien'  in  the  winder^  ez  quiet  ez  a  cat  stealin' 
cream ;  ye  'pear  ter  be  young  an'  able-bodied.  I 
summons  ye  ter  kern  an'  aid  the  off'cer  o'  the 
law !  " 

The  tallow  dip,  which  had  been  for  some  mo 
ments  sputtering  in  the  socket  of  the  candlestick, 
suddenly  flared  up  with  a  wide  illumination,  then 
sunk  as  suddenly  almost  to  extinction,  feebly  rose 
again,  and,  in  a  gust  of  wind,  was  extinguished, 
leaving  a  tuft  of  red  sparks  on  the  drooping  wick, 
and  a  pervasive  odor  of  burning  grease  in  the 
room  and  porch.  Perhaps  it  was  because  of  the 
brighter  light  for  the  moment,  perhaps  because  of 
the  keener  observation  of  the  officer,  whose  facul 
ties  were  once  more  well  in  hand,  but  no  one  else 
had  noticed  a  strange  stillness  in  the  figure  of 
Adelicia,  as  she  sat  in  her  wonted  place  on  the 
edge  of  the  floor  of  the  porch,  leaning  back  against 
the  post. 

"  One  o'  yer  darters  hev  fainted,  I  b'lieve,"  he 
said  to  Cap'n  Lucy.  "  Suthin'  ails  her."  Then, 
turning  away,  "  Kem  on,  fellers  ;  mount  an'  git 
out'n  this.  We-uns  hev  been  hyar  too  long 
now." 


154  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

As  Jasper  Larrabee  rode  away  in  the  little  troop 
toward  the  scene  of  the  disaster,  to  search  for  the 
body  of  the  supposititious  Jasper  Larrabee,  his 
mental  faculties  began  to  recover  from  the  torpor 
of  surprise  which  had  benumbed  them.  That 
cautious  self-control  which  sometimes  seems  an 
added  faculty  in  a  certain  type  of  law-breaker  had 
held  him  mute  as  he  watched  the  development  of 
events.  Now,  as  he  began  to  take  cognizance  of 
the  disclosures  of  the  evening,  he  adhered  of  sober 
intention  to  the  policy  he  had  intuitively  adopted. 
He  feared  the  acknowledgment  that  he  had  re 
ceived  and  harbored  Jack  Espey,  a  fugitive  from 
justice,  more  than  the  acrimonious  search  of  the 
deputy  sheriff  for  the  misdeeds  of  Jasper  Larrabee. 
This,  indeed,  might  result  in  his  apprehension  for 
the  violation  of  the  revenue  laws,  and  the  discovery 
of  the  moonshiner's  lair,  and  this  would  mean 
many  years  of  imprisonment ;  but  the  other  might 
involve  him,  and  possibly  his  mother  as  well,  in  a 
trial  for  murder,  as  accessories  after  the  fact.  It 
might  be  impossible  to  establish  their  ignorance  of 
Espey's  crime,  and  their  lack  of  connivance  in  his 
escape.  He  had  that  pervasive  terror  of  the  law, 
as  of  technical  and  arbitrary  construction  of  crime, 
common  to  the  unlearned.  His  heart  burned  with 
rancor  against  his  whilom  friend.  He  would  not 
recognize  Espey's  share  in  these  ignorant  terrors 
of  the  law.  He  argued  that  if  his  friend  had  been 
open  with  him,  he  would  at  least  have  been  a  free 
agent  in  receiving  him,  have  had  some  voice  in  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  155 

degree  of  responsibility  he  assumed.  As  it  was, 
his  open-handed  hospitality  had  been  grossly  im 
posed  upon,  and  as  a  return  he  was  given  the 
choice  of  the  jeopardy  of  a  charge  as  accessory  to 
a  murder,  or  of  an  infringement  of  the  revenue 
laws.  He  realized  the  whole  drama  as  it  had  been 
enacted.  He  understood  that  Espey,  conniving  at 
the  officer's  mistake,  and  allowing  him  to  suppose 
him  to  be  Larrabee,  had  thus  shielded  his  own 
identity  as  the  fugitive  from  justice  whom  they 
sought.  And  this  ruse  Espey  fancied  was  dis 
covered,  when  the  deputy,  in  his  wild  horse-play, 
had  facetiously  endeavored  to  handcuff  him;  he 
had  therefore  strenuously  resisted,  and  thus  had 
possibly  come  to  his  death.  This  possibility  did 
not  soften  Larrabee  toward  him ;  perhaps  he  did 
not  altogether  accredit  it  at  once,  for  death  is 
difficult  to  realize  even  when  a  certainty.  He 
dwelt  upon  his  own  danger,  even  more  upon  his 
mother's  possible  jeopardy ;  upon  her  untiring  and 
laborious  hospitality;  upon  his  own  labors  which 
had  rendered  such  entertainment  practicable,  for 
the  money  earned  without  her  knowledge  at  the 
still  went,  much  of  it,  to  this  pious  use. 

The  sharpest  sting  of  ingratitude  is  often  the 
sense  that  the  giver  has  been  a  fool.  Larrabee 
harbored  a  surly  grudge  against  himself  as  he 
rode  silently  on,  and  Luther,  uncomprehending  his 
friend's  reason  for  not  disclosing  his  identity,  and 
suspecting  that  Jack  Espey  was  the  man  they 
sought,  was  silent  too.  The  loud  voices  of  the 


156  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

others  in  acrimonious  criminations  and  recrimina 
tions  accented  the  stillness  of  the  night,  and  the 
sound  of  their  horses'  hoofs  as  they  filed  along  the 
mountain  passes,  multiplied  by  rock  and  ravine, 
and  far  echoes  from  distant  heights,  might  have 
seemed  the  march  of  squadrons  of  cavalry. 

The  skies  had  taken  on  that  unfamiliar  aspect  of 
the  hours  which  straitly  precede  the  dawn.  Far, 
far,  on  their  pauseless  way  the  constellations  fared. 
Stars  were  low  in  the  west,  which  on  these  summer 
nights  had  seemed  the  familiars  of  the  meridian. 
A  strange  sense  of  loneliness,  of  silence,  pervaded 
the  firmament.  The  breathless  pause  that  heralds 
the  miracle  of  dawn  bated  the  pulses  of  nature. 
No  more  song  of  cicada,  no  more  stir  of  wind. 
Once  a  meteor,  with  an  incongruous  irrelevance  of 
effect,  shot  athwart  the  sky  with  its  gleaming  trail 
as  of  star-dust ;  the  motion  was  like  a  sacrilege  in 
the  holy  stillness  and  breathlessness  of  the  world. 

And  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  the  myriad  scin 
tillations  a  brilliant  white  jewel  was  ablaze,  which 
Jasper  Larrabee  could  have  sworn  was  not  there 
before;  pellucid,  splendid,  tremulous,  a  star  of 
stars.  He  knew  the  skies  only  as  the  herder  or  the 
shepherd  knows  them  in  lonely,  lowly  paths  of 
earth,  but  even  an  ignorant  man  may  feel  that  the 
circuit  below  is  narrow  and  the  ways  above  are 
wide,  and  the  heart  is  lifted  up.  Not  the  name  of 
one  of  the  stellular  glories  visible  to  the  naked  eye 
could  he  syllable,  but  he  had  marked  them  all; 
he  was  wont  to  dwell  for  hours  upon  their  contem- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  157 

plation ;  lie  knew  the  contour  of  their  most  bril 
liant  whorls  and  scintillating  arabesques  as  he  knew 
the  intricacies  of  the  woodland  ways  in  the  wilder 
ness.  He  had  drawn  his  horse  hastily  back  upon 
the  haunches,  and  again  his  eyes  sought  the  align 
ment  of  the  stars  as  his  fancy  had  marshaled  them. 
There  was  one  more,  —  one  that  he  had  never  be 
fore  seen  ;  one  unknown  to  all  the  splendid  nights 
that  had  ever  shone  upon  the  earth. 

The  voices  of  the  men  patrolling  the  slope  below 
the  point,  where  they  had  paused,  rose  excitedly  on 
the  still  air.  The  horse  was  found,  he  gathered 
vaguely,  dead,  shot  through  the  brain.  The  man 
was  gone.  The  officer,  in  a  frenzy  of  energy,  beat 
the  bushes  far  and  near,  lest  the  fugitive,  wounded 
and  disabled,  might  have  crept  away  in  the  midst 
of  them,  and  still  lay  hidden  in  the  leafy  covert. 
The  hour  wore  away ;  the  dawn  came  on  apace, 
and,  with  the  quest  still  fruitless,  the  officer  pres 
ently  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  speedily  off, 
fearing  less,  perchance,  the  review  of  his  conduct 
by  his  superiors  in  the  county  town  than  the  arbi 
tration  of  the  few  citizens  of  the  scantily  settled 
region,  who  might  take  an  inimical  view  of  the 
disappearance  of  the  guide  of  the  jocose  officer. 

Only  when  the  gray  day  came  with  the  tremulous 
wind  over  the  mountains,  and  the  craggy  ranges 
grew  darkly  distinct,  and  the  unpeopled  wooded 
valley  distinct  and  vaguely  drear,  and  the  deep 
blue  sky  faded  and  was  colorless,  and  one  by  one 
the  stars  noiselessly,  invisibly  slipped  away  without 


158  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

a  trace,  like  some  splendid  promise  never  to  be  ful 
filled,  did  Jasper  Larrabee  turn  rein,  perplexed  and 
disquieted  and  greatly  awed.  For  in  his  unlettered 
ignorance  lie  had  never  heard  of  that  simple  fact 
known  to  astronomy  as  a  temporary  star. 


IX. 

IN  the  days  that  ensued,  no  trace  of  the  fugitive 
was  developed.  Cap'n  Lucy  experienced  a  certain 
relief  in  the  fruitless  result  of  the  extended  search 
instituted  by  the  friends  that  Espey  had  made  in 
the  Cove.  In  their  opinion  the  conclusion  was 
inevitable  that,  despite  the  lack  of  his  horse,  he 
had  made  good  his  escape,  and  did  not  lie  wounded 
or  dead  in  the  jungle  of  laurel,  awaiting  their 
humane  succor,  or  burial  at  their  hands.  He  was 
glad  that  Espey  was  gone,  doubtless  never  to  return, 
and  that  the  matrimonial  problem  was  gone  with 
him.  He  was  not  quite  frank  with  Adelicia  in 
regard  to  this  expectation.  Her  constitutional  hope 
fulness  instantly  adopted  the  general  belief  of  Es- 
pey's  safety  as  fact,  and  she  fixed  her  expectant 
eyes  on  the  future  with  such  fidelity  of  certainty 
that  it  seemed  they  must  constrain  the  return  she 
so  definitely  awaited. 

"  He  '11  find  out  ez  them  off'cers  'lowed  't  war 
Jasper  Lar'bee,  an'  never  knowed  they  hed  Mm. 
An'  then,  uncle  Lucy,  he  won't  be  'feared  ter  kem 
back,"  she  said  many  times  a  day. 

"  Course  not,"  assented  Cap'n  Lucy.  "  He  '11  be 
hyar  afore  long,  jes'  ez  good  lookin  'ez  he  knows 
how  ter  be." 


160  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

It  was  perhaps  a  pious  fraud,  for  the  girl's  de 
spair  and  grief  had  been  so  wild  that  Cap'n  Lucy 
was  glad  for  her  optimism  to  be  reasserted  on 
whatever  terms,  and  to  have  the  pleasant  thing  in 
the  house  once  more. 

Luther  had  necessarily  been  enlightened  by  the 
recent  events  as  to  the  sentimental  phase  of  the 
matter;  for  Cap'n  Lucy  had  hitherto  sedulously 
kept  it  secret,  since  he  did  not  favor  a  fugitive 
from  justice  as  a  suitor  for  his  niece,  and  was  de 
termined  to  break  off  the  affair  at  all  hazards. 
Luther  looked  with  disapproval  upon  his  father's 
crafty  methods. 

"  I  dunno  what  ails  ye  ter  make  Ad'licia  b'lieve 
ez  Espey  will  kem  back,"  he  once  ventured  to  say 
aside  to  his  father.  "  He  air  sure  ter  'low  ez  they 
never  tuk  him  fur  Lar'bee,  else  he  would  n't  hev 
tried  ter  break  away." 

"  Luther,"  said  Cap'n  Lucy,  "  I  hev  noticed  ez  a 
man  air  obleeged  ter  hev  a  powerful  strong  stom- 
mick  ter  be  able  ter  tell  the  truth  at  all  times.  An' 
ez  I  git  old,  I  hev  sorter  got  the  deespepsy." 

The  son  merely  gazed  at  him  with  a  sort  of 
literal-minded  bovine  stare,  as  he  sought  to  enter 
tain  this  statement  of  the  moral  effect  of  debility. 

"  An'  then,  whenst  I  war  a  leetle  boy,"  continued 
Cap'n  Lucy,  "  I  war  bit  by  a  rattlesnake ;  an' 
sometimes  whenst  I  hear  myself  sayin'  sech  ez  air 
agin  the  actial  f ac'  it  don't  s'prise  me'  none,  f er  I 
know  it  air  jes'  a  leetle  meanderin'  o'  the  venom  o' 
the  sarpient  in  me  yit,  'kase,  ye  know,  he  war  a 
deceiver  from  the  beginning." 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  161 

What  impression  the  strange  and  unexpected 
events  had  made  upon  the  impassive  and  reserved 
Julia,  none  had  taken  thought  to  observe.  The 
demonstrative,  expressive  characteristics  of  the 
other  members  of  the  household  filled  the  domestic 
stage.  It  was  only  when  the  poignancy  of  Ade- 
licia's  grief  and  anxiety  had  given  way  to  a  reso 
lutely  patient  and  hopeful  waiting,  and  Cap'n 
Lucy's  vehement  interest  had  subsided  into  a  triv 
ial  occupation  with  the  passing  details  of  life,  that 
it  chanced  to  be  noticed  that  Julia  was  wont  to 
sit  idle  at  her  spinning,  the  thread  in  one  hand, 
the  other  lifted  as  if  to  regulate  the  whirl  of  the 
motionless  flax-wheel;  her  wonderful  blue  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  distant  purple  mountains,  glimpsed 
through  the  parting  of  the  gourd  vines  above  the 
porch ;  her  head,  with  its  smooth  plaits  of  glossy 
hair,  held  up  and  alert ;  some  unspoken  thought 
upon  her  marble  face  that  filled  every  still  line 
with  meaning. 

"  Ye  'pear  ter  be  palsied,  Julia,"  said  the  unob 
servant  Luther,  smoking  his  pipe  on  the  porch  one 
evening.  "  Ye  hain't  moved  hand  or  foot  fur  a 
solid  hour." 

She  started  slightly  at  the  sound  of  his  voice, 
fixing  her  attention  on  him  with  obvious  effort. 
Her  mind  was  evidently  coming  back  from  distant 
removes,  and  Adelicia,  with  vague  curiosity,  de 
manded  suddenly,  — 

"  What  air  you-uns  studyin'  'bout,  Julia,  whenst 
ye  air  lookin'  like  that  ?  " 


162  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  Studyin'  an'  a-studyin',"  said  Julia,  dropping 
her  hands  in  her  lap  and  leaning  back  in  the  chair, 
her  eyes  once  more  turning  to  the  high,  massive 
mountains  afar  off  as  if  they  possessed  some  mag 
netic  attraction,  "  'bout'n  whar  pore,  pore  Jack 
Espey  kin  be  now,  an'  how  powerful  cur'ous  't  war 
ez  ye  would  n't  marry  him  whenst  he  axed  ye." 

The  fore-legs  of  Luther's  tilted  chair  came  down 
to  the  floor  with  a  thump.  With  a  hand  on  either 
knee,  and  the  cinders  and  burning  tobacco  dropping 
from  his  pipe  unheeded  to  the  floor,  he  sat  fixedly 
staring  at  his  silent  sister.  To  his  comprehension 
she  was  speaking  her  mind  very  unequivocally  now. 
Despite  the  vaunted  feminine  quickness,  Adelicia 
heard  in  it  only  personal  upbraiding,  for  a  certain 
remorse  had  made  her  sensitive  on  this  score,  and 
prone  to  protest  her  constraining  dutifulness. 

"  I  hed  uncle  Lucy's  word  agin  it ! "  she  ex 
claimed,  with  a  rising  flush  and  angry  bright  eyes. 

Julia  slowly  shook  her  head,  her  eyes,  her 
thoughts,  far,  far  away.  "  I  would  n't  hev  keered 
fur  no  'uncle  Lucy's'  word,"  she  declared  icono- 
clastically.  "  I  reckon,  ef  the  truth  war  knowed, 
dad  hisself  married  ter  suit  his  own  taste.  Least 
wise,  I  ain't  never  hearn  o'  no  old  uncle  or  aunt 
or  dad,  or  sech  kinfolks,  ez  ondertook  ter  make  a 
ch'ice  in  marryin'  fur  him." 

"Waal,  sir,"  Luther  interposed,  in  a  tone  of 
shocked  propriety,  "  settin'  up  hyar  an'  talkin'  by 
the  yard  medjure  'bout  marryin'  an'  men-folks,  an' 
I  'd  bet  my  best  heifer  that  Jack  Espey  ain't  gin 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  163 

air  one  o'  ye  a  single  thought  sence  he  lef  hyar. 
No,  nor  nare  'nother  man.  Ef  the  truth  war 
knowed,  ye  hain't  got  a  haffen  chance  apiece,— 
without  it  air  'Renzo  Taft,  down  yander  at  the 
Lost  Time  mine,  an'  he  can't  make  out  which  air 
the  hardest  favored  'twixt  ye  !  Ye  hed  both  better 
go  ter  work.  Jack  Espey  '11  never  kem  back  agin. 
Dad  jes'  say  he  will  ter  pledjure  Ad'licia.  An', 
Julia,  ef  ye  don't  spin  up  that  thar  truck,"  —  he 
pointed  with  fraternal  imperiousness  at  the  wheel, 
— "  ye  '11  be  toler'ble  scant  o'  new  clothes,  an' 
ye  '11  look  wuss  like  a  skeercrow  'n  ye  do  now." 

Julia  received  this  taunt  to  her  beauty  with  the 
equanimity  of  one  whose  title  is  unimpugnable ; 
but  Adelicia,  all  unheeding  any  subtler  sense  than 
the  obvious  meaning  his  words  conveyed,  protested 
against  even  this  conjectural  banishment  of  poor 
Jack  Espey.  He  would  come  back,  she  declared. 
He  had  doubtless  found  out  by  this  time  that  he 
was  mistaken  in  supposing  the  officers  cognizant 
of  his  true  identity,  and  that  they  were  jesting, 
thinking  him  still  Larrabee.  And  now  that  the 
nine  days'  wonder  had  blown  over,  and  people  were 
interested  in  it  no  more,  and  so  much  was  going  on 
in  the  Cove  to  usurp  public  attention,  she  looked 
for  him  any  time  just  to  slip  back  in  his  old  place. 
"  I  never  kem  out  on  the  porch  but  I  look  ter  see 
him  in  that  thar  cheer  whar  Luther  be.  I  hev 
'peared  ter  see  him  thar." 

"  That  ain't  the  way  I  'pear  ter  see  him,"  said 
Julia  suddenly.  "  I  dreampt  he  war  a-kemin'  on 


164  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

his  claybank  horse,  a-lopin'  down  the  road,  a-wavin' 
his  big  white  hat  at  we-uns  like  he  done  that  day  he 
kilt  the  wolf  an'  fetched  home  the  pelt.  That 's  the 
way  I  view  him  ever  sence  I  dreampt  that  dream." 

"  Then  ye  hev  the  nightmare,"  said  Luther,  surly 
and  helpless  to  stem  the  tide  of  sentiment,  "  an'  ye 
hain't  got  no  mo'  sense  sleepiii'  than  wakin' ;  fur 
that  claybank  roan  will  lope  down  these  rocky  roads 
no  mo',  partly  through  bein'  dead,  an'  partly  through 
old  Miser  Miggihs  hevin'  gone  down  the  gorge  an' 
tuk  off  the  critter's  shoes.  Ye  better  content  yer- 
self  with  the  claybank  roan  ez  a  nightmare,  fur  ye 
ain't  goin'  ter  view  Espey  an'  the  critter  a-lopin' 
round  no  mo',  no  matter  how  much  be  a-goin'  on 
in  the  Cove." 

For  the  Cove  was  indeed  in  a  phenomenal  fer 
ment.  To  the  astonishment  of  the  leisurely  and 
dilatory  mountaineers,  the  work  on  the  new  hotel 
had  begun,  and  was  being  pushed  forward  on  paral 
lels  inconceivable  to  their  ideas  of  progress. 

Cap'n  Lucy,  his  mind  recalled  to  his  more  im 
mediate  personal  interests,  watched  it  with  a  sort 
of  avidity  of  observation  from  the  porch  of  his  own 
house,  where  he  was  wont  to  sit  with  his  pipe. 
His  sneer,  his  silent  laugh,  his  acrid  enigmatical 
phrases,  grew  frequent  as  the  blasting  for  the  cel 
lars  proceeded,  and  the  flying  fragments  of  rock, 
which  had  elicited  such  formidable  prognostication, 
fell  far  short  of  his  cabin  or  his  inclosures,  indeed 
seldom  coming  to  the  ground  beyond  the  jungle  of 
laurel  at  the  base  of  the  great  natural  terrace,  the 
site  of  the  work. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  165 

"  He  did  n't  git  the  edzact  range,  Luther,"  he 
would  say  in  affected  surprise ;  or,  sarcastically, 
"  This  hyar  Kenn'ston  would  hev  made  a  powerful 
spry  gunner  in  the  old  war  times,  —  sech  a  eye  for 
distances ! " 

Adelicia,  observing  the  circumstance,  also  re 
membering  Kenniston's  expressions  of  fear  for  their 
safety,  only  saw  cause  for  gratulation. 

"  Mr.  Kenn'ston  'lowed  ez  we-uns  mought  hev  ter 
move  an'  leave  home  whilst  the  blastin'  war  goin' 
on ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  An'  he  made  a  powerful 
mistake,  uncle  Lucy." 

"  So  he  did,"  said  Cap'n  Lucy,  with  a  twinkling 
eye.  "  He  air  a  great  man  fur  movin'  ginerally. 
He  b'lieves  in  movin'  things." 

Luther,  remembering  the  peripatetic  corner-stone 
and  the  impending  processioning,  understood  the 
allusion,  but  he  had  a  foreboding  of  trouble,  and 
his  heart  sunk  within  him.  He  was  glad  when  the 
blasting  was  concluded,  which  it  was  shortly ;  for 
he  feared  a  premature  or  ill-advised  accusation,  and 
it  seemed  to  him  that  the  meaning  of  those  thinly 
veiled  sarcasms  must  presently  be  revealed  to  others 
as  well  as  to  himself.  The  foundations  were  laid, 
and  the  framing  of  the  building  followed  promptly ; 
soon  the  gaunt  skeleton  of  the  hotel,  an  outline  of 
modern  frivolity  and  summer  pleasuring  and  flimsy 
vastness,  was  incongruously  imposed  upon  the  si 
lent,  solemn  mountain  behind  it,  with  the  rugged, 
austere  crags  below  it;  with  the  unfamiliar  mists 
shifting  through  it  and  drifting  along  corridor  and 


166  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

ball-room  and  scaling  the  tower ;  with  its  prophetic 
shadow,  like  a  line  engraving,  flung  by  the  moon 
light  on  the  dark  surface  of  the  top  of  the  dense 
forest  below.  More  than  once  furious  mountain 
storms  assailed  it ;  but  its  builder's  philosophy  had 
taken  account  of  these  inimical  forces,  and  it  held 
fast. 

The  unbroken  mountain  wind,  however,  played 
havoc  with  the  light  shanties  of  the  workmen  in 
this  exposed  situation  on  the  promontory  of  rock, 
and  when  rebuilt  the  camp  was  moved  below  the 
terrace,  down  in  a  sort  of  gorge,  shielded  and  safe, 
albeit  the  distance  from  the  work  was  a  matter  of 
some  inconvenience. 

They  proved  civil  folk,  the  town  mechanics,  and 
answered  gravely  many  a  queer  question  put  from 
a  vast  distance  in  civilization  and  sophistication, 
albeit  at  arm's  length  from  the  natural  body ;  for 
from  far  and  near  the  mountaineers  visited  the 
unfinished  structure.  Often  a  wagon  with  a  yoke 
of  oxen  would  stand,  the  patient  beasts  humbly 
a-drowse,  for  an  hour  or  so  in  the  sandy  road,  while 
the  jeans-clad  owner  would  patrol  the  new  build 
ing,  solemnly  stepping  from  timber  to  timber  over 
the  depths  of  the  cellar,  or  with  the  utmost  sim 
plicity  of  assurance  make  a  critical  circuit  about 
the  whole,  and  offer  suggestions  looking  toward  im 
provements.  Sometimes  the  visitor  was  of  shyer 
gentry :  a  red  fox  was  glimpsed  early  one  morning, 
with  brush  in  air,  speeding  along  the  joists  of  the 
ball-room;  it  might  seem  they  would  never  know 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  167 

the  weight  of  aught  more  graceful  or  agile  ;  a  deer, 
doubtless  a  familiar  of  the  springs,  was  visible  once, 
leaping  wildly  down  the  rocks  in  great  elastic 
bounds,  evidently  hitherto  unaware  of  the  invaders 
of  these  preempted  sylvan  wilds.  Others,  too,  of 
the  ancient  owners  of  the  soil  came  on  more  pro 
saic  quest,  but  in  the  dead  hour  of  darkness  or  the 
light  of  the  midnight  moon.  A  young  bear,  who 
had  long  harbored  predatory  designs  upon  a  cer 
tain  fat  shoat,  a  denizen  of  that  pig-pen  of  Cap'n 
Lucy's  upon  which  the  owner  and  Mr.  Kenniston 
looked  with  such  differing  eyes,  was  brought  to  a 
pause,  in  a  cautious  reconnoitre,  by  the  fragments 
of  food,  scraps  from  the  workmen's  dinner,  which 
might  be  found  by  nosing  about  among  the  shav 
ings.  Perhaps  it  was  this  alone  that  led  him 
about  the  angles  and  turns  of  the  building ;  but 
as  he  went  between  the  sparse  substance  of  the 
timbers  and  their  scant  linear  shadows  that,  in 
the  sorcery  of  the  moonlight,  appeared  hardly  less 
real,  he  seemed  as  censorious  a  critic  as  Cap'n 
Lucy  himself.  Sometimes  he  would  pause  in  his 
clumsy  shamble,  and,  with  the  moonlight  a-glitter 
in  his  small  eyes,  lift  himself  on  his  hind  feet  and 
gaze  about  the  solitary  building,  indescribably  mel 
ancholy  in  the  loneliness  and  the  wan,  pensive 
sheen ;  grin  with  his  white  teeth,  a-gleam  with  a 
sarcastic,  snarling  contempt ;  fall  to  all  fours  again ; 
and,  shrugging  his  heavy  shoulders  to  his  ears,  scud 
along  with  the  aspect  of  clumsy  sportiveness  com 
mon  to  his  kind. 


168  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

It  chanced  that  a  light,  portable  forge  had  been 
in  use  that  day,  in  the  process  of  the  work ;  the 
foreman  had  himself  looked  to  the  extinction  of 
the  fire,  albeit  the  scene  of  the  operation  was  upon 
the  solid  rock,  and  far  from  any  possible  communi 
cation  with  the  building.  The  wind  could  never 
have  turned  over  the  low  apparatus  set  in  the  hol 
low  of  the  ledges,  but  the  bear  could,  and  did. 
Then  he  sat  down  suddenly  to  'lick  his  singed  paw, 
for  the  metal  was  still  hot.  The  fuel  had  been 
charcoal;  it  still  sustained  heat,  and  even  com 
bustion.  There  was  a  steady  spark  in  a  few  of 
the  scattered  cinders,  quickening,  reddening,  as 
the  eager  night  air  touched  them.  The  shavings 
amongst  which  they  had  fallen,  further  down  the 
slope,  were  slightly  astir  for  a  moment;  then  a 
timorous  blaze  sprang  up  along  the  more  tenuous, 
lace-like,  curling  edges. 

How  the  destructive  element  fared,  whether  by 
slow,  insidious,  fearful  degrees,  as  of  conscious  but 
furtive  evil  intent,  or  as  animated  by  a  wild,  tu 
multuous,  riotous  impulse,  more  and  more  rapacious 
with  impunity,  as  of  some  turbulent,  maddened 
thing  escaping  control,  none  but  Bruin  might  say, 
for,  save  the  impassive,  neutral  night,  the  event 
had  no  other  witness.  Before  the  flames  had  fairly 
taken  hold  of  the  studs  and  joists  his  cowardly 
fears  had  gained  the  ascendency  over  his  gluttony. 
More  than  once  he  paused,  in  gnawing  his  trophy 
of  a  beef  bone,  to  growl  fiercely,  his  remonstrant, 
surprised  eyes  illuminated  by  this  alien  flicker.  As 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  169 

the  skies  began  to  redden,  and  the  pale  moonlight 
to  fail,  and  the  great  massive  mountains  to  appear, 
dark  and  weird,  from  the  deep  and  silent  seclusions 
of  the  night,  he  left  his  booty  and  retreated  toward 
the  verge  of  the  woods,  pausing  now  and  again  in 
the  dun-colored  shadows,  all  veined  with  shifting 
pulsations  of  red  and  white,  to  look  with  eyes  aglow, 
reflecting  the  fire,  upon  its  ravages,  growling 
fiercely  at  times ;  then,  with  his  recurrent  fears, 
setting  out  once  more  on  a  lumbering  run. 

Perchance  the  reflection  flung  upon  the  clouds, 
all  lurid  and  alight,  before  which  the  stars  shrank 
away  invisible,  apprised  the  traveler  journeying  in 
far-away  coves  and  ranges,  or  the  herder  of  the 
lofty  solitudes  of  the  balds,  or  the  hunter  in  distant 
coverts,  of  the  disaster  in  progress  before  the  near 
est  neighbors  were  roused.  The  angry  glare  of  the 
conflagration  seemed  to  pervade  the  world,  like  the 
vivid  searching  terrors  of  the  red  day  of  doom, 
when  the  workmen,  down  in  their  sheltered  nook 
beneath  the  crags  and  the  dense  shadows  of  the 
forest,  discovered  the  untoward  fate  of  their  handi 
work.  Into  the  crevices  of  the  batten  shutters  of 
Cap'n  Lucy's  glassless  windows  the  keen  rays  at 
last  pierced,  like  some  sinister,  pestilential,  daz 
zling  sunburst,  illuminating  the  homely  scenes  with 
an  uncanny  flare,  and  displacing  the  broken  dreams 
with  a  terrified  awakening. 

Naught  could  be  done.  It  might  be  accounted 
a  spectacle  in  some  sort,  —  to  watch  the  airy  acro 
batic  feats  of  the  lithe  flames  leaping  from  beam  to 


170  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

brace,  from  joist  to  rafter,  of  the  three  tall  stories, 
seeming  of  vaster  proportions  with  all  their  detail 
illustrated  in  these  living  tints  upon  the  subsidi 
ary,  flickering  night.  There  was  a  series  of  wild, 
dancing,  tangled  blazes  a-whirl  in  the  lengths  of 
the  ball-room,  white  and  red  and  orange  and  blue, 
an  uncanny  rout.  High  up  on  the  battlemented 
turret  a  vermilion  banner  flaunted  suddenly  out  to 
the  moon,  and  then  it  was  struck  amidst  a  myriad 
of  sparks,  and  the  echoes  clamored  out  against  the 
crashing  of  the  tower. 

For  days  thereafter  the  smoking,  charred  ruin 
was  the  terminus  of  many  a  pilgrimage  amongst 
the  simple  folk  of  the  region,  who  had  never  beheld 
wreckage  on  such  a  scale.  The  idle  workmen 
hovered  about  it,  dispirited  and  anxious,  awaiting 
orders.  There  was  much  mysterious  talk  of  incen 
diarism,  and  a  rumor  pervaded  the  Cove  that  the 
matter  had  already  been  reported  in  this  light  to 
the  authorities,  and  that  Eodolphus  Ross  was  on 
his  way  to  the  scene  of  action. 

Cap'n  Lucy,  seated  on  the  rocks  about  the  lim 
pid  spring,  at  a  comfortable  distance  from  the  hot, 
smouldering  mass,  smoked  his  pipe,  as  he  contem 
plated  it,  in  more  placidity  of  mind  than  had  for 
some  time  fallen  to  his  share.  He  was  not  a  man 
who  would  deliberately  seek  to  injure  his  enemy  in 
person  or  property  ;  but  Cap'n  Lucy  was  eminently 
human,  and  he  could  but  admire  the  wisdom  of  the 
uncovenanted  dispensations  of  Providence,  through 
which  Mr.  Kenniston's  game  was,  as  he  conceived 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  171 

it,  so  handsomely  blocked.  He  had  a  most  buoy 
ant  sense  of  irresponsibility  in  the  matter. 

"I  ain't  so  much  as  once  spoke  to  the  Lord 
'bout'n  that  man,"  he  said  privately  to  Luther,  as 
if  his  prayers  must  needs  have  been  inflammable. 

He  was  not  the  only  one  of  the  spectators  who 
thought,  in  view  of  the  magnitude  of  the  ruin,  that 
the  whole  project  was  necessarily  ended,  and  who 
looked  on  Kenniston's  invasion  of  the  Cove  as  a 
thing  already  of  the  past.  It  was  a  matter  of  very 
general  surprise  when  the  "  town  man  "  suddenly 
reappeared  upon  the  scene  in  a  bounding  fury,  and, 
in  the  metaphorical  phrase  of  the  mountaineers, 
"  primed  and  loaded  for  b'ar."  They  little  dreamed 
how  literal  a  reason  he  had  to  hold  a  grudge  against 
Bruin. 


X. 


THE  season  seemed  full  of  menace  to  the  troglo 
dytes  of  the  Lost  Time  mine.  The  work  went  on 
about  the  still  as  hitherto,  but  with  added  precau 
tion —  various  and  vain,  for  the  limits  of  their 
ingenuity  had  already  been  reached  —  and  with 
a  heavy  sense  of  presage.  The  old  moods  that  had 
prevailed  here  were  gone,  whether  of  brag  and 
bluster,  or  wild  hilarity,  or  jocose  horse-play,  or 
the  leisurely  and  languid  spinning  of  yarns  to  help 
the  hour  to  pass.  Even  the  industry  of  old  Zeb 
Copley,  the  veteran  of  the  force,  was  mitigated  by 
sudden  long  pauses  and  a  disposition  to  hearken 
fearfully  for  unaccustomed  noises,  and  by  eager 
and  earnest  urgency  that  the  work  should  be  pre- 
termitted  for  a  time.  The  youngest  moonshiner  of 
all  felt  it  a  dreary  world  to  look  at  with  sober  eyes, 
and,  despite  his  morose  abstinence  and  surly  staid- 
ness,  a  less  discerning  judgment  than  Taft's  might 
have  foreseen  the  brevity  of  this  enforced  drought 
and  the  danger  of  a  relapse,  with  all  his  reminis 
cences  at  his  thick  tongue's  end,  were  he  free  to 
fare  about  the  world  without.  Espey's  vacant 
place  was  ever  significant  of  the  reason  for  it,  and 
Larrabee  would  sit  for  hours  brooding  over  the 
untoward  chances  of  his  own  fortunes  ;  his  gloomy 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  173 

eyes  on  the  ever-glinting  line  of  light  playing 
through  the  furnace  door,  his  motionless  pipe  full 
only  of  dead  ashes  in  his  heedless  hand. 

"  Ye  air  a  toler'ble  danger  some  neighbor,"  Taft 
remarked  one  day  ;  for  the  complication  of  the  mis 
taken  identity  had  come  to  his  ears  during  a  sortie 
from  his  stronghold,  and  the  threats  of  the  deputy 
sheriff  against  the  supposed  Jasper  Larrabee 
coupled  with  his  suspicions  as  to  moonshining. 

Larrabee  looked  up  fiercely.  "  Move,  then,  ef 
ye  don't  like  yer  neighbor." 

He  was  like  a  fox  run  to  earth  ;  he  had  no  fur 
ther  resource.  His  one  idea  of  dealing  with  the 
law  was  by  evasion  and  subterfuge  and  concealment. 
He  had  no  remote  expectation  of  justification.  By 
a  series  of  deceits  he  had  persuaded  his  mother  to 
go  on  an  immediate  visit  to  a  bedridden  great-aunt 
who  lived  in  an  adjoining  county.  The  horse  she 
rode  belonged  to  a  neighbor  of  the  aged  relative, 
who  chanced  to  be  in  this  locality,  and  who  was 
taking  home  with  him  a  led  horse,  a  recent  pur 
chase.  Jasper  himself  was  to  go  after  her  in  the 
indefinite  period  when  the  corn  should  be  laid  by 
and  her  own  horse  at  leisure.  The  infant  con 
queror  of  the  rickets  went  with  her,  mounted 
behind  her,  his  chubby  arms  stretched  at  their  ut 
most  length  clasping  her  gaunt  waist,  and  with  as 
unchastened  a  vainglory  and  pride  in  the  earnest 
of  this  great  journey  and  the  envious  wonderment 
of  the  other  children  as  if  his  bourne  were  the  north 
pole.  Thus  Mrs.  Larrabee  set  out,  with  the  grim- 


174  ffIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

visaged  neighbor  of  the  aunt  in  advance,  and  with 
a  frisky,  dapper  colt  —  already  en  rapport  with 
the  pilgrim  youth  by  reason  of  mutual  juvenility, 
irresponsibility,  and  frivolity  —  kicking  up  his  ad 
mired  heels  in  the  rear.  And  Henrietta  Timson 
reigned  in  her  stead  under  the  queer  little  sylvan 
roof  that  seemed  no  more  made  with  hands  than 
the  cups  of  a  triple  acorn. 

Thus  it  was  that  Jasper  Larrabee  was  roofless 
for  the  nonce,  save  for  the  strata  of  the  Lost  Time 
mine. 

That  Lorenzo  Taft  would  fain  be  rid  of  him  he 
saw  grimly  enough,  and  this  he  grimly  refused  to 
heed.  He  had  incurred  the  suspicion  of  moonshin- 
ing  by  reason  of  Espey's  choosing  to  wear  his  name 
for  an  hour  or  so.  He  had  incurred  it  through  110 
fault  of  his  own.  The  infringement  of  the  law 
was  common  to  them  all,  and  involved  a  danger 
which  they  should  share. 

At  all  events,  there  would  be  nobody  to  answer 
for  harboring  the  fugitive,  should  Espey's  true  iden 
tity  become  known  to  the  law,  and  Rodolphus  Ross 
find  his  way  again  to  the  little  house  on  its  airy 
perch.  Taft  had  thought  it  wise  that  Larrabee, 
already  tainted  with  suspicion  in  the  mind  of  the 
officer  of  the  law,  and  thus  a  source  of  great  dan 
ger,  should  follow  Espey  to  parts  unknown.  But 
the  world,  to  the  unlodged  of  earth,  is  doubtless 
of  aspect  like  the  face  of  the  waters  to  the  dove 
when  first  loosed  from  the  ark,  without  foothold 
or  friendly  sign. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  175 

Larrabee  replied  even  to  the  innuendo :  — 

"  Go  whar  ?  An'  leave  you-uns  a-cuddled  down 
hyar  so  snug  in  the  groun'  that  the  devil  hisse''f  will 
sca'cely  nose  ye  out  on  the  JedgmintDay?  Naw, 
sir.  I  see  nuthin'  but  resk  fur  me  on  all  sides,  but 
less  hyar  'n  enny whars.  I  hev  stood  in  ez  much 
danger  ez  enny  of  ye.  I  hev  tuk  my  sheer  o'  the 
resk  'thout  wingin',  but  I  won't  be  kicked  out  like 
a  stray  dog  an'  gin  up  ter  the  law  'kase  you-uns  air 
'feared  'Dolphus  Ross  'lows  I  be  a  moonshiner.  He 
can't  find  or  hear  o'  me  hyar.  I  got  ez  much  right 
hyar  ez  you-uns,  'Renzo  Taft.  I  own  my  sheer  in 
the  business,  an'  hyar  I  be  goin'  ter  'bide." 

The  other  two  moonshiners,  Copley  and  young 
Dan  Sykes,  regarded  him  askance  and  with  sullen 
eyes.  This  minority  might  seem  to  be  fraught  with 
no  small  danger.  His  chief  fear  lest  Espey  should 
be  overtaken,  and  the  details  of  his  refuge  with  the 
Larrabees  be  elicited,  involving  himself  and  his 
mother  as  accessories  to  the  crime,  he  never  men 
tioned.  It  so  absorbed  his  thoughts,  however,  that 
for  a  time  he  did  not  observe  a  symptom  of  the 
antagonism  of  his  confreres  which  deeply  augured 
its  seriousness. 

A  shaft  hard  by  the  still-room,  if  such  the  nook 
where  the  apparatus  was  worked  might  be  called, 
which  was  sunk  into  the  very  deepest  limits  of  the 
mine,  came  near  relieving  them  of  their  perplexity 
on  this  score,  one  day.  Larrabee's  foot  slipped  in 
the  rotting  refuse  of  pomace  on  the  verge  while  he 
was  handling  the  bags  of  grain,  and  as  he  came 


176  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

heavily  to  the  floor,  barely  saving  himself,  he  saw 
like  a  flash  a  sudden  irradiation  of  hope  on  the 
flushed,  foolish  face  of  the  boy,  a  keen  expectation 
in  Taft's  eyes,  and  even  in  the  elderly  drudge's 
wooden  wrinkles  a  sort  of  disappointed  resignation 
as  he  scrambled  to  his  feet,  that  daunted  him  more 
than  the  immediate  danger. 

His  precious  book  he  read  no  more  by  the  light 
of  the  furnace  flicker,  after  this.  Not  that  he  now 
brooded  over  his  cares,  but  his  watchfulness  never 
flagged.  Whether  the  accident  suggested  the  idea 
to  Taft,  or  whether  it  were  the  flimsy  fiction  of  the 
inimical  atmosphere  and  his  own  alert  apprehen- 
siveness,  Larrabee  thought  that  he  was  given  several 
opportunities  to  take  leave  inadvertently  of  the 
world.  Once,  in  cleaning  a  pistol  said  to  be  un 
loaded,  the  ball  in  the  last  chamber  whizzed  sharply 
by  his  head.  Again  and  again  he  was  set  to  handle 
the  heavy  bags  of  grain  on  the  slippery  verge  of  the 
shaft.  After  a  time  a  new  cause  of  alarm  was  de 
veloped.  Despite  his  crafty  vigilance  in  his  deter 
mination  to  remain  at  all  hazards,  he  did  not  notice, 
until  it  became  very  marked,  their  unwillingness 
that  he  should  leave  the  still  at  all,  and  Taft's  ex- 
pertness  in  disallowing  every  pretext.  The  truth 
dawned  upon  him  at  last,  with  its  most  valid  rea 
son.  Although  they  would  be  glad  were  he  to  quit 
the  country,  yet,  since  his  permanent  absence  could 
not  be  compassed,  any  chance  excursion  into  the 
Cove  or  neighborhood  was  fraught  with  danger,  as 
he  might  be  seen,  identified  as  Larrabee,  and  fol- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  177 

lowed  by  the  man  who  had  spotted  him  as  a  moon 
shiner  to  Taft's  house,  where,  spending  days  and 
nights,  the  mystery  would  soon  be  unfolded. 

Larrabee  came  upon  this  discovery  with  a  suffo 
cating  sense  as  of  a  prisoner.  Instantly  he  was  pos 
sessed  by  a  wild  urgency  for  the  outer  air  and  the 
freedom  beyond  that  seemed  as  if  its  own  impetus 
might  break  through  the  barriers  of  a  thousand  feet 
of  the  solid  ground.  He  almost  felt  the  wind  blow 
in  the  strength  of  his  keen  desire ;  and  when  he  set 
himself  instantly  to  compass  his  deliverance,  eager 
ness  outran  tact  in  his  first  demonstration. 

"  Hello,  'Renzo,"  he  said  in  a  cheerful,  incidental 
voice,  strikingly  at  variance  with  the  gruff  tones 
that  had  of  late  served  him  in  the  absolutely  essen 
tial  colloquies  between  them  touching  the  work. 

Taft's  keen  senses  instantaneously  apprehended 
the  difference.  He  glanced  around  with  a  quick 
eye,  illumined  by  the  feeble  white  gleam  of  the 
lantern  in  his  hand,  for  he  had  but  just  emerged 
from  the  tunnel.  He  did  not  simulate.  He  looked 
as  he  felt,  interrogative,  expectant,  as  he  sat  down 
on  the  side  of  a  barrel  without  pausing  to  extin 
guish  the  lantern.  Its  pallid  glow  suffused  his 
florid  face  and  yellow  beard,  and  brought  out  the 
tint  and  effect  of  translucency  in  his  blue  eyes. 
They  were  fixed  steadily  on  Larrabee,  who  was 
suddenly  out  of  countenance.  He  had  intended  a 
more  casual  disclosure  of  his  project  than  the  im 
pending  interview  permitted,  —  a  sort  of  unpre 
meditated  announcement  of  his  determination,  as 


178  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

of  being  free  to  do  as  he  would.  He  felt  that  his 
face  had  changed,  and  he  knew  that  the  change 
was  noted.  A  new  rush  of  alarm  seemed  to  surge 
through  his  nerves.  For,  guarded  as  Taft  evi 
dently  was,  he  too  had  betrayed  somewhat  the  im 
portance  which  he  attached  to  the  plans,  even  the 
words,  of  his  employee,  or  his  partner,  or  his  pris 
oner,  as  Larrabee  might  be  variously  regarded.  It 
daunted  Larrabee :  the  latent  ferocity  that  lurked 
in  Taft's  character,  repudiated  in  his  burly  good 
comradeship  of  manner  and  in  his  florid  face,  — 
save  for  a  certain  beaklike  outline  of  the  nose  that 
gave  a  rapacious,  cruel  intimation,  —  was  instinc 
tively  known  to  the  young  mountaineer,  who  was 
not  skilled  in  the  craft  of  a  knowledge  of  his  kind, 
and  had  no  habit  of  analysis.*  He  somehow  flinched 
to  be  made  anew  so  definitely  aware  that  he  was  a 
factor,  and  a  troublous  one,  in  Taft's  schemes.  He 
felt  no  match  for  the  elder  tactician.  He  wished 
he  had  gone  long  before,  when  the  moonshiner 
sought  so  openly  to  be  rid  of  him.  At  all  events, 
he  would  go  now,  and  without  chicanery  or  subter 
fuge.  He  blurted  out  his  plan,  which  he  had  in 
tended  to  trench  upon  with  great  care  and  circum 
spection,  and  which  should  have  appeared  a  natural 
evolution  and  outcome  of  the  conversation. 

"  'Renzo,"  he  said,  with  a  distinct  abatement  of 
his  former  genial  inflections,  but  still  with  a  pliable, 
amiable  tone,  —  and  for  his  life  he  could  not  sup 
press  an  intonation  of  appeal,  —  "  'Renzo,  I  'm 
a-studyin'  'bout  takin'  yer  advice.  Ye  air  old'n  me 
an'  hev  got  mo'  'speriunce  an'  "  — 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  179 

"  What  advice  ? "  Taft  interrupted  succinctly. 
The  sentence  seemed  very  short  in  his  big,  mellow, 
sonorous  voice  ;  it  was  like  a  key  struck  inadvert 
ently  on  some  great  organ  ;  the  heavy  vibrations  in 
themselves  seemed  to  promise  continuity. 

"  'Bout  goin'  out'n  the  Cove.  I  been  studyin'  it 
all  out,  an'  I  'low 't  would  be  safer  fur  all  consarned 
ef  I  war  ter  cut  an'  run." 

Taft  remained  silent.  His  illumined  eyes  were 
glassy  and  fixed  ;  somehow,  the  absorbed,  introspec 
tive  thought  seemed  to  eliminate  their  expression. 

"  Jes'  cl'ar  out,"  said  Larrabee,  as  if  in  explana 
tion  ;  he  could  not  repress  the  manner  of  asking  a 
permission,  although  he  raged  inwardly  at  himself. 

"  Whar'bouts  ?  "  Taft's  great  voice  boomed  out 
once  more  as  it  were  inadvertently. 

"  Ter  Buncombe  County  in  old  Car'liny,  whar  I 
got  some  kinfolks  a-livin',"  said  Larrabee.  "  That 's 
what  I  war  a-studyin'  'bout,"  he  added,  still  striving 
for  a  more  incidental  effect. 

The  furnace  door  was  open,  for  the  fire  was  low, 
the  still  but  just  emptied,  and  the  work  intermitted 
for  the  nonce.  The  bed  of  red  coals  filled  the  place 
with  a  dull  glow.  In  its  dreamy  light  he  saw  sud 
denly  the  broad,  flabby  face  of  Dan  Sykes,  the 
youngest  of  the  moonshiners,  distorted  with  silent 
mirth,  like  the  face  of  a  caricature.  He  sat  upon 
a  billet  of  wood  in  a  lowly  attitude,  frog-like  with 
his  upturned  head  which  was  supported  by  his  two 
hands,  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees  drawn  high 
under  his  chin.  His  distended  grin  of  evident 


180     •  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

delight  in  Taft's  answer  showed  that  it  was  not 
unexpected. 

"  Why,  law,  Jasper,"  exclaimed  Taft,  —  but  the 
unctuous  tone  would  not  mix  with  the  lie  of  the  in 
tent,  and  floated  in  its  midst  like  oil  on  water,  — 
"  I  could  n't  make  out  now,  jes'  now,  'thout  you-uns. 
I  be  short-handed  now,  'count  o'  Espey,  an'  I  got 
word  ter-day  from  the  cross-roads  fur  two  barrels  o' 
corn  juice  quick  ez  it  kin  be  got  thar.  Yer  kin  in 
Buncombe,"  —  his  eye  twinkled,  for  he  suspected 
the  kin  in  Buncombe  to  be  of  that  airy  folk  known 
only  to  dreams  and  deceits,  —  "  they  '11  keep.  Ye  '11 
hev  jes'  ter  put  off  goin'  fur  a  leetle  spell,  —  bein' 
so  short-handed,  ye  know." 

"  What  air  they  aimin'  ter  pay  fur  them  bar'ls?  " 
demanded  Larrabee  calmly. 

Thus  he  drew  the  conversation  aside  to  the  com 
mercial  aspects  of  the  situation,  as  if  he  acquiesced 
in  Taft's  view,  and  recurred  to  his  proposition  no 
more.  He  controlled  his  voice,  but  his  heart  sunk 
like  lead.  He  had  not  dreamed  but  that  they  would 
be  glad  to  let  him  go  if  he  quitted  the  region.  He 
had  not  even  feared  that  this  resource  was  in  jeop 
ardy.  He  could  not  imagine  the  turn  of  events 
which  must  needs  preclude  his  flight  abroad,  as  well 
as  his  familiar  appearance  in  his  wonted  haunts 
about  the  Cove.  He  cursed  his  fatuity  again  and 
again  that  he  had  not  escaped  when  he  could. 
What  were  the  dangers  of  the  world  at  large  in 
comparison  with  the  mysterious  menace  that  envi 
roned  him  here  ?  He  dwelt  continuously  on  these 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  181 

thoughts  for  a  time,  and  it  was  only  gradually,  and 
chiefly  by  reason  of  Sykes's  leering  grin  and  secretly 
gleeful  eye,  that  he  became  aware  that  this  Benja 
min  amongst  them  had  been  specially  deputed  to 
watch  him.  In  the  days  of  his  own  terrors  of  the 
world  without,  he  had  ceased  to  go  out  for  his  meals 
or  to  sleep.  He  subsisted  on  "  snacks  "  which  Taft 
fetched  down  from  his  own  table,  —  which  abstrac 
tion  caused  no  surprise  to  his  small  housekeeper, 
for  Miss  Cornelia  Taft  had  long  since  exhausted 
her  capacities  for  astonishment  at  any  prodigies  of 
food  consumption  on  the  part  of  her  father,  who 
took  such  big  bites  in  comparison  with  old  Mrs. 
Jiniway's  custom,  —  and  he  slept  at  broken  inter 
vals,  as  his  uneasy  thoughts  permitted,  on  the  empty 
meal  sacks  in  the  shadow  of  the  piles  of  barrels. 
This  life  continued  now  of  necessity,  as  formerly  of 
choice.  Larrabee's  apparent  acquiescence,  he  had 
a  vague  idea,  surprised  and  perturbed  the  others. 
They  were  evidently  prepared  for  resistance  and 
harsh  measures.  They  had  lost  their  balance  in 
some  sort ;  their  attitude  was  like  that  of  one  who 
makes  ready  for  a  running  leap,  and  stops  short  of 
the  jump.  Thus,  their  unsteady,  balked  surprise 
bore  scant  relation  to  their  persistent,  unchanged 
purpose,  for  their  watch  upon  him  was  not  for  one 
moment  relaxed.  Even  in  the  network  of  wrinkles 
about  the  sunken  eyes  of  the  elder  distiller,  a  sort 
of  staggered,  dumf ounded  suspicion  expressed  itself, 
in  conjunction  with  an  observant  heed  of  Larrabee's 
every  movement  which  hitherto  would  not  have 


182  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

been  allowed  to  absorb  so  much  of  the  attention  he 
was  wont  to  bestow  on  the  still. 

At  first  the  discovery  came  near  to  breaking 
down  Larrabee's  reserve  of  endurance.  His  heart 
thumped  so  loudly,  so  heavily,  that  he  sometimes 
thought  they  must  hear  its  treacherous  clamors  as 
he  sat  and  smoked  in  the  dull  red  glow,  assuming 
a  calm  and  somnolent,  satisfied  aspect.  Occasion 
ally,  with  that  terrible  sense  of  the  key  turned,  the 
door  closed,  the  realization  of  restricted  liberty,  so 
overwhelming  to  the  free  habit  of  the  mountaineer 
and  the  woodsman,  with  a  charter  to  wander  as 
wide  as  the  wilderness,  the  blood  would  surge  to  his 
head,  the  copper  boiler  spin  round  and  round,  his 
companions  slowly  wheel  about  in  that  dim  space  of 
shadow  and  light ;  and  he  thought  he  lost  conscious 
ness  at  these  times.  But  always  when  he  came  to 
himself  he  was  sitting  as  before,  calmly  smoking  in 
his  wonted  place,  seeming  a  trifle  disposed  to  shirk 
his  work,  perchance ;  and  latterly  he  had  begun  to 
drink  heavily,  as  it  were  upon  the  sly.  He  could 
not  have  said  how  the  idea  had  come  to  him :  it  was 
not  gradual ;  the  scheme  was  full  fledged  in  an  in 
stant.  He  knew  that  his  every  movement  was  un 
der  surveillance,  and  that  he  was  under  the  special 
guard  of  the  young  drunkard,  who  had  been  longer 
sober  now,  perhaps,  than  for  many  a  month.  Dan 
Sykes  watched  with  glistening  eyes  Larrabee's  fur 
tive  hand  reaching  for  the  jug  of  whiskey,  the  trick 
of  the  hasty  swallow  aside,  and  presently  Larrabee 
had  a  companion  in  his  covert  potations.  He 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  183 

trembled  lest  the  young  fellow's  scanty  powers  of 
self-restraint  should  not  be  adequate  to  conceal  long 
enough  to  serve  his  plan  the  swift  ravages  of  drink 
in  his  recent  abstinence.  He  seemed  insatiable  and 
frantically  keen  of  thirst,  and  the  necessity  of  con 
cealing  his  indulgence  from  Taft,  who  had  evidently 
sent  forth  some  fiat  against  it,  developed  an  almost 
incredible  deftness  of  craft.  On  the  day  that  the 
liquor  was  barreled  and  removed,  Sykes  had  been 
drinking  almost  without  cessation.  His  share  in 
the  work  was  scant,  his  duties  as  guard  serving 
in  substitution.  Perhaps  for  this  reason,  perhaps 
because  of  the  absorption  in  the  enterprise,  neither 
of  the  two  elder  moonshiners  noticed  his  condition ; 
and  indeed  he  had  become  singularly  skilled  in 
assuming  a  sort  of  veneer  of  sobriety.  It  passed 
muster  in  this  instance. 

Taft  got  away  early  in  the  night  with  his  load, 
taking  note,  apparently,  of  nothing  beyond  some 
extra  hazard  of  the  enterprise,  as  Larrabee  gathered 
from  the  caution  with  which  he  loaded  his  revolvers 
and  his  frequent  conferences  aside  with  Copley, 
who  enjoyed  his  special  confidence,  being  his  near 
kinsman  as  well  as  coadjutor.  The  barrels  were 
to  be  concealed  in  the  wagon  under  bags  of  feath 
ers,  dried  fruit,  ginseng,  and  other  strictly  rural 
commodities  of  barter.  Two  barrels  of  innocent 
and  saccharine  sorghum  found  themselves,  too,  in 
the  unholy  company  of  those  barrels  that  the  still 
had  furnished  forth.  It  was  somewhat  difficult  to 
make  out  the  load.  Copley  was  eager  for  it  to  be 


184  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

off,  notwithstanding,  but  Taft  persisted  until  all 
the  probabilities  had  been  satisfied.  There  was 
much  passing  back  and  forth  in  the  tunnel; 
through  its  long  lengths  Larrabee  could  hear 
the  commotion  in  the  room  beneath  the  store. 
When  the  preparations  were  completed  at  last, 
he  knew  as  well  as  if  he  had  seen  it  how  the  great 
white  canvas-covered  wagon  looked,  standing  with 
its  two  stanch  mules  before  the  door  of  the  store, 
under  the  early  dusky  night  sky  and  the  burly 
overhanging  purple  heights,  the  yellow  light 
streaming  out  from  the  open  door  upon  it,  and 
all  the  cheerful  bustle  of  departure  rife  as  it  were 
in  the  very  air.  Taft  came  back  at  the  last  mo 
ment  for  his  coat.  As  he  swung  himself  alertly 
into  it,  and  crushed  his  big  hat  down  on  his  big 
yellow  head,  he  had  all  the  breezy  impetus  of  one 
who  is  about  to  start  on  a  pleasant  and  successful 
journey. 

"  All  loaded !  "  he  cried  cheerfully.  "  A  kentry 
merchant  a-goin'  ter  buy  goods  can't  be  too  keer- 
ful  —  oughter  take  along  all  the  gear  he  kin  ter 
trade  —  ha !  ha  !  ha !  Good-by !  Take  keer  o'  yer- 
se'fs ! " 

And  thus  he  strode  out  with  his  light,  elastic 
tread.  Larrabee  listened  as  it  beat  on  the  dirt 
path,  and  then  to  the  echoes  that  duplicated  its 
progress,  till  it  ceased  to  sound. 

Somehow  the  void  about  the  circle  was  not  with 
out  melancholy  intimations,  the  normal  incident  of 
departure,  whether  it  be  regretted  or  cause  for  grat- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  185 

ulation.  Perhaps  because  of  the  sudden  disordered 
quiet  and  loneliness  in  the  quitted  scene,  the  un 
occupied  mind  must  needs  always  reach  forward 
into  the  unknown  journeyings,  meeting  in  specula 
tion  the  varied  events  denied  to  the  home-abiding. 
Larrabee  sat  still  for  a  time  in  the  low  red  glow  of 
the  furnace  fire,  exchanging  now  and  again  an  in 
cidental  comment  with  his  companions  on  the  sub 
ject  of  the  journey  and  its  chances.  The  intervals 
of  silence  grew  longer  ;  the  shadows  gathered  and 
deepened;  the  younger  man's  head  occasionally 
nodded  grotesquely  in  sleep,  but  more  than  once,  as 
Larrabee  was  about  to  rise  to  his  feet,  he  saw  in  the 
obscurity  the  large  bloodshot  eyes  opened  and  fixed 
soberly  upon  him.  He  had  waited  long ;  long  for  the 
certainty  that  Taft  would  not  return  on  some  for 
gotten  errand ;  long  for  the  drunken  sleep  that  must 
needs  overcome  the  inimical  vigilance  of  the  young 
moonshiner.  He  could  wait  no  longer.  With 
an  abrupt,  shrill  cry  like  that  of  a  savage  pan 
ther,  he  flung  himself  upon  his  elder  companion. 
Copley  was  a  man  of  powerful  physique,  and  his 
every  muscle  was  developed  by  the  heavy  labor 
in  which  it  was  exercised.  In  his  undiminished 
strength  his  age  gave  no  advantage  to  his  adversary, 
whose  slight  bulk  he  might  have  flung  from  him 
with  a  single  arm  but  for  the  surprise  and  sudden 
ness  of  the  attack  in  which  he  was  borne  to  the 
ground.  All  Larrabee's  strength  hardly  sufficed  to 
hold  him  there  for  a  moment.  There  was  a  fierce 
struggle  ;  a  pistol  ball  whizzed  by  Larrabee's  head, 


186  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

and  the  narrow  precincts  were  filled  with  the 
echoes  and  with  Copley's  hoarse  calls  upon  Sykes 
for  help.  The  young  fellow  rose  in  response, 
stupidly  echoing  the  cries  of  his  own  name,  took 
one  tottering  step  forward,  and  fell  like  a  log, 
flabby,  nerveless,  helpless,  on  the  floor.  Larrabee 
wondered  afterward  that  it  could  all  be  so  quickly 
done.  It  was  by  virtue  of  surprise,  desperation, 
sleight  of  hand,  deftness,  and  quickness  rather 
than  by  strength  or  courage.  A  meal  bag  served 
as  a  gag,  and  a  rope,  used  in  transporting  the 
heavy  barrels  up  the  steep  incline  to  the  store,  to 
pinion  the  arms  and  shackle  the  feet.  Larrabee 
was  almost  exhausted  by  the  capture  of  the  first 
prisoner,  and  it  was  perhaps  auspicious  for  his 
freedom  that  the  young  drunkard,  beyond  an  ill- 
directed  blow  or  two,  could  make  no  resistance. 
The  rope  was  made  fast  around  the  solid  masonry 
of  the  furnace ;  and  as  Larrabee  contemplated  his 
work,  he  felt  sure  that  the  two  prisoners,  one  yet 
vainly  struggling,  the  other  already  sleeping  the 
sleep  of  the  very  drunk,  would  find  no  means  of 
deliverance  till  Taft's  return  the  next  day. 

Again  and  again  in  his  durance  Larrabee  had  pre 
figured  how  swift  would  be  his  flight  along  the  tunnel 
to  the  free  outer  air.  Now  he  feebly  plodded,  and 
trembled,  and  faltered,  and  again  went  groping  along 
the  densely  black  way,  essaying  to  keep  a  straight 
line,  but  feeling  himself  continually  touching  the 
wall,  now  on  the  right,  and  again  on  the  left,  in 
his  zigzag  course.  Once  he  paused  with  an  alert 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  187 

start.  A  sound  of  human  voices  had  struck  his 
ear,  and  at  the  merest  possibility  that  his  escape 
was  not  complete,  certain,  every  flaccid,  exhausted 
muscle  was  tense  again.  He  lifted  up  his  head, 
hardly  breathing,  that  he  might  listen,  but  heard  only 
the  uncontrolled  motion  of  his  own  heart  plung 
ing  like  an  unruly  horse.  All  else  was  silent  in  the 
black  stillness  of  the  deeps  of  the  earth,  save  for  the 
slight  purling  of  the  thread  of  a  stream  which  farther 
on  intersected  the  tunnel.  No  stir,  no  sound  from 
the  still-room,  his  late  prison-house,  where  his  jail 
ers  lay  bound  hand  and  foot ;  and  yet  he  had  thought 
he  heard  voices  —  human  voices  —  words  —  he 
could  almost  have  sworn  it.  And  suddenly  the 
sound  came  again.  This  time  he  recognized  it, — 
louder  than  its  custom,  more  distinct,  for  he  had 
heard  it  before,  —  the  sound  of  the  strange,  unex 
plained  voices  that  at  long  intervals  were  wont  to 
reverberate  along  the  tunnel  of  the  Lost  Time 
mine,  and  that  were  accounted  by  the  moonshin 
ers  echoes  from  their  own  wrangles  or  mirth  or 
talk  as  they  toiled.  He  was  certain  that  it  did  not 
come  now  from  the  still ;  his  fear  that  his  work  had 
been  slack,  and  that  his  comrades  were  liberated, 
was  without  foundation,  but  an  earthly  rational 
fear  is  a  wonderful  exorcist  of  a  ghostly  terror. 
Otherwise,  when  he  thought  of  it  afterward,  he 
felt  that  he  must  have  been  struck  dead  with  the 
horror  of  it,  when  he  suddenly  heard,  close  at 
hand,  the  sound  dulled  by  the  dense  medium  of 
the  earth,  a  word  of  command,  as  it  were,  in  a 


188  HIS    VANISHED    STAR. 

queer,  strained,  false-ringing  voice,  and  then  the 
regular  strokes  of  a  pick  cleaving  the  earth  with  a 
workmanlike  steadiness  and  precision.  His  blood 
ran  cold;  for  his  credulity  harbored  no  doubts. 
It  was  the  sound  of  the  drowned  miners,  lost  in 
the  flooded  shafts,  still  vainly  digging  the  graves 
that  the  niggard  earth  denied  them.  The  thought 
mended  his  speed ;  he  flew  like  a  shuttlecock  from 
side  to  side  of  the  narrow  passage,  where  he  could 
but  grope,  for  the  lack  of  a  lantern  ;  and  although 
he  often  put  forth  his  hands  expecting  to  touch  the 
boards  of  the  partition  at  the  further  end,  he 
thrust  into  his  palms  a  score  of  the  hairy  splinters 
of  the  reverse  side  of  the  rude  puncheons  long  be 
fore  he  could  have  reasonably  expected  to  reach  his 
goal.  He  observed  none  of  the  precautions  and 
silence  common  to  the  moonshiners  in  their  exits 
from  the  still ;  and  indeed  the  feat  was  hardly  ex 
pected  to  be  attempted  in  the  dense  darkness.  He 
dropped  one  of  the  boards,  and  the  deep,  cavern 
ous,  clamorous  echo  coming  up  from  the  hollow 
vaults  below  almost  overwhelmed  him,  as  it  re 
sounded  again  and  again.  He  had  lost  control  of 
his  nerves.  He  stumbled  over  the  empty  boxes  and 
barrels  in  the  room  beneath  the  store,  tumbled  up 
the  ladder,  and  as  he  clambered  from  the  door 
beneath  the  counter  he  realized  for  the  first  time 
that  the  room  was  built,  as  were  many  of  the 
meaner  cabins  of  the  region,  without  a  window, 
depending  on  the  door  for  ventilation  and  light. 
This  was  a  matter  of  precaution  with  Taft,  and 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  189 

being  a  not  uncommon  feature  in  the  district 
occasioned  no  surprise  ;  but  Larrabee  trembled  as 
he  remembered  that  it  was  Taft's  cautious  habit 
to  lock  the  door  when  he  himself  was  not  in  the 
store.  Feeling  that  the  bars  were  in  place  against 
the  battens,  he  was  apprised  that  it  had  been  thus 
secured  by  the  worthies  down  at  the  still,  and 
perchance  the  key  was  now  in  Copley's  pocket. 
His  only  resource  would  be  to  retrace  his  way,  all 
the  toil  and  risk  of  his  escape  to  be  repeated.  But 
no,  the  bolt  turned  in  his  hand,  and  as  he  stepped 
into  the  passage  outside  his  eyes  were  dazzled  almost 
to  blindness  by  a  tallow  dip  blazing  in  the  hand 
of  little  Cornelia  Taf t,  summoned  by  the  noise  to  in 
vestigate  its  source.  Behind  her,  looking  over  her 
head,  was  Joe's  round,  careless,  plump  face.  Lar 
rabee  was  little  less  staggered  by  the  monition  that 
there  might  be  other  persons  at  hand  in  the  house 
than  by  the  expression  of  Cornelia's  prim,  disap 
proving,  unfriendly,  intelligent  little  countenance. 
The  next  instant  he  cared  for  neither ;  a  salient 
change  in  the  aspect  of  the  cabin  claimed  his  at 
tention.  The  open  passage  between  the  two  rooms 
had  been  boarded  up,  and  a  stout  door  fitted  in, 
barred  and  bolted,  on  which  gleamed  a  strong  new 
lock.  There  was  no  key  visible.  He  gazed  at  the 
lock  with  greedy  eyes,  silent,  till  the  girl's  question 
had  been  twice  repeated. 

"  Me  —  doin'  hyar  ?  Oh,  I  been  doin'  some 
work  fur  yer  dad,"  he  said,  more  at  ease,  for  he 
had  seen  her  occasionally  as  he  came  and  went, 


190  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

presumably  in  the  character  of  customer,  and  he 
detected  recognition  in  her  calm  and  non-commit 
tal  countenance.  "  I  got  shut  up  in  thar,  —  mought 
hev  been  noddin',  —  an'  I  war  'feared  the  door  war 
locked."  He  advanced  upon  the  outer  door. 

"  Ye  can't  git  out'n  that  one,"  said  the  little  girl 
coolly  ;  "  hit 's  locked  on  the  outside,  an'  dad  hev 
goned  away  ter  the  cross-roads  with  the  key  in  his 
pocket." 

Larrabee's  first  impulse  was  to  try  his  strength  to 
burst  it  open,  and  once  more  that  salutary  monition 
of  the  probable  presence  of  others  in  the  house  con 
trolled  him.  He  turned  toward  the  door  of  the  op 
posite  room,  partly  to  settle  this  doubt,  and  partly 
to  discover  —  it  had  never  before  occurred  to  him 
to  notice  —  whether  it  had  a  window.  The  room 
was  vacant,  and  his  eager  eyes  ranged  the  walls  in 
vain  for  an  aperture. 

"  It 's  like  a  trap,"  he  muttered,  as  he  sunk  ex 
hausted  into  a  chair.  "  What  ails  'Renzo  ter  lock 
up  the  house  an'  make  off  with  the  key,  an'  leave 
you-uns  inside  by  yerse'fs?  "  he  demanded. 

The  two  children  had  followed  him  into  the  room. 
Joe  stood  by  the  door,  holding  by  the  frame,  sway 
ing  back  and  forth,  attempting  some  distortion  of 
attitude  impossible  to  the  human  configuration ; 
but  the  little  girl  had  seated  herself  staidly  in  a 
chair  opposite,  and  showed  herself  not  averse  to 
conversation. 

"  'Kase  thar  be  sech  a  lot  o'  strange,  idle  folks 
in  the  Cove,"  said  the  prim  Miss  Cornelia,  with  an 
expression  of  strong  disapprobation. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  191 

Larrabee  could  not  restrain  an  exclamation  of 
surprise.  It  was  indeed  like  a  new  world,  the  fa 
miliar  Cove,  so  long  he  had  been  shut  out  of  it. 

"  What  folks  ?  "  he  asked  succinctly. 

"Them  ez  hev  been  building  the  new  hotel," 
said  Sis.  "  Them,  in  course." 

"  What  they  doin'  now  ?  Ain't  they  buildin'  ?  " 
he  hazarded  tentatively. 

"  Naw,"  —  the  small  Cornelia  Taft  pursed  up  her 
lips  contemptuously,  —  "jes'  a-roamin'  round  the 
Cove  in  gangs,  a-foolin'  an'  a-idlin',  an',  my  sakes, 
a-drinkin'  whiskey,  thick  ez  bees !  " 

A  new  light  was  breaking  in  on  Larrabee.  Taft 
had  at  first  desired  that  he  should  leave  the  Cove,  — 
slip  away  quietly  ;  now,  since  it  was  infested  with 
a  troop  of  scattered  workmen,  apparently  out  of  a 
job,  all  of  whom  had  doubtless  spent  an  idle  hour 
agape  over  the  story  of  the  supposed  Jasper  Larra 
bee,  the  last  nine  days'  wonder  of  the  Cove,  —  the 
facetious  freak  of  the  pretended  arrest,  the  miracu 
lous  escape  of  the  fall  from  the  cliffs,  the  mysterious 
disappearance,  the  suspicion  of  moonshining,  and 
the  threatened  vengeance  of  the  deputy  sheriff,  — 
it  was  scarcely  probable  that  he  could  get  away 
without  exciting  notice  which  might  lead  to  recog 
nition,  pursuit,  and  arrest.  He  was  safer  at  the 
still,  —  this  he  himself  admitted  now,  —  far  safer 
in  the  depths  of  the  earth ;  except,  indeed,  for  Taft 
and  his  fellows. 

"  Did  you-uns  see  the  fire  ?  "  demanded  Joe  sud 
denly,  still  writhing  and  twisting  against  the  door 
frame.  "  /  did  !  "  in  triumph. 


192  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"  Ye  would  n't  ef  I  bed  n't  a-woke  ye  up,"  said 
Sis,  with  acerbity.  "  I  'low  ye  did  n't  see  much 
nohows,  bein'  so  sleepy-headed." 

Larrabee  sat  looking  in  surprise  from  one  to  the 
other,  his  questions  anticipated  by  their  eager  rel 
ish  of  the  subject. 

"  Dad  never  seen  nuthin' ! "  cried  the  boy  tri 
umphantly. 

"  Dad  would  n't  b'lieve  thar  war  a  fire  till  he 
went  an'  viewed  the  cinders  of  the  hotel,"  said  the 
girl. 

The  hotel !  A  sudden  suspicion  smote  Larrabee, 
a  recollection  of  the  threat  to  burn  the  building 
which  had  originated  amongst  the  moonshiners  be 
fore  a  stone  was  laid  in  mortar  or  a  timber  lifted. 
He  did  the  craft  injustice  in  this  instance  ;  Taft 
and  his  associates  had  no  part  in  the  conflagration. 
But  with  Espey  out  of  control,  and  Larrabee 
touched  with  the  suspicion  of  moonshining,  a  chance 
word  might  fix  upon  the  distillers  this  far  more 
serious  crime  known  to  them  both  to  have  already 
been  broached  here.  There  was  much  reason  for 
his  detention,  —  too  much.  He  must  be  going,  and 
that  shortly.. 

"  I  wonder  ye  all  ain't  'feared  o'  burnin'  up  in 
hyar,  locked  up,"  he  said  suddenly,  the  catastrophe 
seeming  to  render  the  danger  of  fire  more  imminent, 
although  he  knew  it  to  be  the  habit  of  the  country 
folk  to  lock  small  children  in  when  convenient  to 
leave  home  without  them. 

The  little  girl's  thin  lip  curled. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  193 

"  Ef  we-uns  hain't  got  no  mo'  sense  'n  ter  set  the 
house  or  ourse'f s  afire,  I  reckon  we  'd  be  wuth  ez 
much  roasted  ez  raw,"  she  replied. 

"  Dad,  he  locked  the  door  so  we-uns  kin  tell  them 
stragglers  ez  he  be  gone,  an'  they  can't  git  in  ter 
trade  fur  drink,"  put  in  Joe. 

Larrabee  said  nothing  more.  He  knew  full  well 
that  the  children  were  not  so  alone  as  they  seemed, 
since  Copley,  who  was  their  mother's  half-brother, 
was  wont  to  be  in  the  store,  in  Taft's  absence,  often 
enough  to  be  at  hand  should  he  be  required  to  sup 
press  any  disturbance ;  and  being  a  near  relative, 
he  had  a  personal  interest  in  their  safety.  Miss 
Cornelia  Taft  was  a  fine  combination  of  her  father's 
shrewdness  and  her  grandmother's  preciseness.  As 
Larrabee  felt  her  small,  discerning  eyes  studying 
him,  he  became  conscious  that  he  was  looking 
about  wildly  and  with  manifest  anxiety  as  to  his 
next  step.  He  made  an  effort  to  allay  her  dawning 
curiosity. 

"  Things  look  powerful  nice  an'  cle'n  up  in  hyar," 
he  remarked  casually. 

He  was  unprepared  for  the  effect  of  his  words. 
If  Miss  Cornelia  Taft  had  a  soul,  it  was  expressed 
in  her  housewifely  instincts.  In  a  dozen  frantic 
and  funny  juvenile  misconceptions,  the  precepts 
brought  from  Mrs.  Jiniway's  domicile  were  put 
into  practice  here.  The  basis  of  them  all,  cleanli 
ness  and  an  effort  for  order,  was  plainly  apparent, 
and  Sis  spent  the  better  part  of  her  days  in  seeking 
to  impress  upon  Joe's  unwilling  mind  the  value  of 


194  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

an  occasional  dish-washing,  and  the  utility  of  wood 
ashes  in  scouring.  An  evil  day,  Joe  considered  it, 
when  she  came  into  his  ragged,  soapless,  happy-go- 
lucky  life ;  but  Taft  connived  at  their  wranglings 
over  their  primitive  housekeeping  and  Joe's  subjec 
tion.  "  Keeps  Sis  busy,  an'  lets  me  git  on  her  blind 
side,  —  ef  she  hev  got  enny  blind  side,"  he  added 
grimly. 

Her  pallid  face  flushed,  her  eyes  sparkled;  she 
cast  a  glance  of  triumph  at  Joe,  who  had  seated 
himself  in  a  chair,  and  was  twisting  his  bare  feet 
in  and  out  of  the  rungs  in  a  way  painful  to  witness, 
if  not  to  experience,  writhing  his  body  to  and 
fro,  and  rolling  his  head  from  side  to  side  over  the 
high  back  of  the  chair  in  a  restless  frivolity  of 
motion  that  certainly  had  no  family  resemblance 
to  the  staid  "  manners "  which  Mrs.  Jiniway's 
disciple  exhibited. 

She  had  entered  volubly  upon  a  detail  of  her 
exploits  here  in  reforming  Joe's  misrule  amongst 
the  pots  and  pans  and  kettles. 

"  Dad 's  so  'way  from  home,  an'  Joe  's  so  tur'ble 
shif'less,"  she  complained. 

The  task  of  redding  up  the  Augean  stables  was 
slight  in  comparison,  one  might  believe,  to  judge 
from  her  show  of  horror  now  and  then,  and  there 
was  considerable  difference  between  the  size  of  Sis 
and  of  Hercules.  She  had  succeeded  in  reaching 
some  sense  of  culinary  propriety  in  Joe,  or  pride, 
for  he  now  and  again  became  sufficiently  still  to 
look  poutingly  sullen,  and  to  ejaculate,  "  'T  ain't 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  195 

true !  "  "  'T  war  n't !  "  and  similar  disaffected 
negations. 

".I  Farnt  all  that  whenst  I  lived  with  my  granny," 
she  concluded  her  exposition  of  the  true  methods 
of  dealing  with  the  trivet  and  the  skillet  and  set 
ting  the  house  in  order.  "  An'  when  we  war  done, 
we  'd  knit  stockings  an'  tell  tales." 

"  Tales  'bout  what  ?  "  asked  Larrabee,  seeking  to 
conciliate  her,  for  he  began  to  have  a  shrewd  suspi 
cion  that  she  could  aid  him  if  she  would.  His 
interest  was  the  more  easily  simulated,  for  he  had 
a  literary  taste  himself. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  with  a  little  bounce  forward, 
not  unlike  Joe's  elasticity,  "  them  in  gineral  we-uns 
hearn  the  rider  read,  —  'bout  Sam'l." 

"  I  hev  read  'bout  Sam'l,"  said  Larrabee  quickly, 
with  an  air  of  playing  willingly  to  her  lead ; 
and  indeed  she  had  struck  him  on  his  strong  suit. 
"  An'  old  Eli.  Eli  war  an  able  man,  but  he  never 
'peared  ter  me  ter  hev  much  jedgmint." 

"  I  jes'  lo-o-oved  ter  hear  'bout  leetle  Sam'l  an' 
his  mother,  an'  her  a-bringin'  of  him  new  clothes. 
He  wore  a  white  shut,  an'  she  brung  him  a  leetle 
coat  every  year,"  continued  Sis,  with  placid  eyes 
shining  with  the  delighted  reminiscence  of  the  little 
prophet's  fine  gear. 

"  Eli  never  could  hev  led  the  children  of  Isrul 
through  the  wilderness  like  Moses  done,"  said  Lar 
rabee  meditatively,  reverting  naturally  to  the  elder 
character ;  whereas  with  Sis  the  personnel  of  the 
Bible  was  chiefly  juvenile,  rarely  attaining  a  greater 
height  than  four  feet. 


196  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"  Jes'  ter  think,"  she  cried,  "  they  put  Moses 
whenst  a  baby  in  a  leetle  dug-out,  an'  anchored  him 
'mongst  the  willows  under  the  ruver  bank,  an'  lef ' 
him  by  hisself !  Don't  ye  know,  he  hollered  an' 
hollered!  An'  he  wondered  whar  all  the  folks 
war  gone." 

"  An'  Dan'l  I  hev  read  about,"  continued  Lar- 
rabee. 

"  In  the  painters'  den !  Oo— oo !  "  The  little 
girl  shivered  with  a  sort  of  enjoyment  of  the  terror 
of  the  situation,  drawing  up  her  shoulders,  and 
holding  both  hands  over  her  mouth. 

"  He  war  n't  'feared.  I  reckon  he  mus'  hev  been 
a  powerful  hunter  whenst  young.  I  wonder  ef  he 
ever  hed  enny  'speriunce  with  wolf  an'  bar,  an' 
sech  ?  "  Larrabee  speculated. 

"  Them  bars !  War  n't  that  awful,  —  plumb  tur- 
rible !  "  exclaimed  Sis  suddenly,  her  scanty  brows 
knitted  as  she  frowningly  recoiled  into  the  back  of 
her  chair,  and  her  small  eyes  grew  large.  "  Them 
two  bars  what  eat  them  forty  childern,  —  though 
't  ain't  manners,  an'  it  never  war,  ter  make  game  o' 
yer  elders." 

"  'T  ain't  true !  No  two  bar  ever  eat  forty  chil 
dern.  They  'd  hev  bust ! "  Joe  interposed  realisti 
cally.  "  Sis  jes'  made  that  up  out'n  her  own  head." 

"  It  air  true,"  protested  the  little  Biblical  student. 
"I  hearn  the  rider  read  it  myself." 

"  Them  childern  war  obleeged  ter  be  sorter  siz 
able  ter  hev  quit  bein'  bald-headed  tharse'f  s,  ef  they 
war  able  ter  run  an'  p'int  thar  fingers.  An'  shucks ! 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  197 

I  hev  been  sassier  'n  that  a  many  a  time,  an'  no  bar 
hev  eat  me  yit,"  said  Joe  hardily. 

"  Ye  air  savin'  up  fur  Satan,  I  reckon,"  retorted 
Miss  Taft,  with  acerbity.  "  I  hev  a  heap  o'  trouble 
with  this  boy,"  she  added,  turning  a  dreary,  dis 
gusted  little  face  toward  Larrabee. 

Their  unity  of  literary  interest  had  fostered  a 
degree  of  sympathy  for  her.  "Ye  oughter  go 
down  sometimes  an'  set  at  Tems's,"  he  suggested. 
"  He  hev  got  a  darter  an'  a  niece,  though  they  air 
older  'n  ye  be." 

"  I  don't  mind  old  folks,"  said  Cornelia,  evi 
dently  with  no  idea  of  the  gradations  of  age.  "  I 
be  used  ter  granny.  I  wisht  dad  would  marry  one 
of  'em  at  Tems's,"  she  added. 

Larrabee  glanced  keenly  at  her. 

"  What  ails  ye,  ter  say  that  ?  "  he  asked  jealously. 

"  I  'd  like  ter  see  a  tuck  took  in  Joe,"  said  Sis 
bitterly. 

She  obviously  spoke  without  further  information 
or  meaning.  Larrabee  rose  restlessly,  the  interest 
of  the  literary  symposium  at  an  end. 

"  I  wisht  ye  could  let  me  out'n  hyar  somehows," 
he  said,  glancing  uneasily  about.  Then,  with  a  sud 
den  recollection,  "  Ain't  you-uns  got  a  key  ez  would 
open  the  sto'  door,  what  ye  brung  from  yer  granny's 
house  ?  Mebbe  't  would  open  t'other." 

"  Dad  took  it ;  he  did  n't  want  the  sto'  do'  opened 
whenst  he  hed  locked  it." 

"Hain't  you-uns  got  no  mo'  keys,  no  kind  o' 
keys?" 


198  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

She  hesitated,  but  he  had  won  upon  her  some 
what  obdurate  predilections  ;  his  acquaintance  with 
the  heroes  of  the  tales  that  she  had  learned  at  her 
grandmother's  home  was  a  pleasing  and  fresh  bond 
of  interest.  She  divined  his  sympathy,  and  had 
seen  his  approval  of  the  works  she  had  wrought  in 
the  service  of  order  and  cleanliness ;  he  saw  in  her 
little  prim  face  that  she  had  keys  at  hand,  and 
presently  she  nodded  brightly. 

"  Let 's  try  'em,"  he  urged,  as  if  the  experiment 
had  a  mutual  interest. 

It  was  a  bunch  of  two  or  three  rusty  old  keys 
which  she  produced,  held  together  with  a  rough 
leather  string,  but  they  meant  liberty  and  life  to 
Larrabee.  He  could  hardly  be  still  long  enough  to 
clean  and  oil  them  before  the  attempt  which  should 
be  decisive.  The  little  girl  rubbed  one  with  a  will, 
while  he  busied  himself  with  the  other.  She  held 
the  candle  as  he  knelt  tremulously  on  the  floor  and 
applied  them  successively  to  the  lock.  One  slipped 
in  and  turned  f  utilely  all  round,  —  too  small.  The 
other  would  not  even  enter  the  keyhole. 

As  he  knelt  there,  the  tallow  dip  showed  a  white, 
set  face.  He  was  remembering  his  comrades,  bound 
hand  and  foot  down  at  the  still,  and  prefiguring 
Taf t's  alarm,  —  which  was  in  itself  formidable  in  its 
valiant  disregard  of  all  but  his  own  safety,  —  his 
resentment  and  revenge,  when  their  imprisoned  es 
tate  should  be  discovered  to  him.  Whatever  might 
betide  in  the  world  without,  it  was  death,  indubi 
tably,  to  remain.  He  rose  suddenly,  almost  over- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  199 

turning  the  child  at  his  elbow,  starting  toward  the 
door  of  the  store  to  get  some  implement  to  serve  to 
break  the  lock. 

"  Try  a  file,"  said  Sis  reasonably,  misunderstand 
ing  his  intention. 

She  was  still  holding  the  candle  as  he  came  back, 
its  white  light  on  her  precise  little  face  and  smooth 
hair  put  primly  behind  her  ears,  and  a  tall  wo 
manly  caricature  of  her  aped  her  gestures  as  her 
shadow  stretched  up  on  the  new  poplar  weather- 
boarding  of  the  partition. 

Her  suggestion  worked  like  a  charm.  A  few 
moments  of  a  sharp,  rasping  noise,  while  she  set 
her  little  teeth,  a  second  essay  at  the  lock :  the  bolt 
slipped  back  as  if  made  for  the  rusty  old  key  that 
had  worked  no  miracles  before  save  that  of  open 
ing  old  Mrs.  Jiniway's  "  chist ;  "  the  door  swung 
open.  A  glimpse  of  the  windy  night,  the  clouds, 
the  tossing  woods,  and  Sis,  putting  up  the  bars 
again,  heard  the  last  echo  of  Larrabee's  swift  step 
as  he  strode  away. 


XI. 

THE  day  fixed  for  processioning  Kenniston's  land 
dawned  with  an  element  of  perplexity  all  its  own 
to  add  to  the  troublous  questions  which  it  was  ex 
pected  to  decide.  The  weather  was  the  aptest  il 
lustration  of  uncertainty.  The  first  gray  light  came 
with  a  rolling  cloud  and  a  dank  wind  sweeping 
along  quick  gusts  of  rain ;  then  the  sun  rose,  dif 
fusive,  promissory,  with  a  great  lavishness  of  red 
and  yellow  suffusions,  a  range  and  degree  of  rank, 
heavy  color  that  seemed  nearer  to  the  hues  of  sun 
set  than  to  the  luminous  purity  and  delicacy  of 
wonted  matutinal  freshness.  The  slate-tinted  clouds 
were  massed  once  more,  the  beams  failed,  the  wind 
brought  the  rain  anew,  and  when  it  ceased  at  last, 
light  mists  were  stealing  along  the  heavy  purple 
mountains,  and  rising  from  every  chasm  and  de 
pression  ;  even  far  away  amongst  those  vague  con 
tours,  gray  and  dun-tinted  and  brown,  that  were 
like  the  first  lifeless  sketch  of  the  dazzling  azure 
ranges  that  the  sunny  days  were  wont  to  paint  with 
such  brilliant  softness  upon  the  fair  field  of  the 
horizon,  these  vapors,  white,  soft,  opaque,  flocculent, 
could  be  seen.  So  from  the  furthermost  reaches  to 
the  nearest  limits  invisibility  was  visibly  garnered. 

As  Kenniston,  perturbed  because  of  the  weather 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  201 

signs,  turned  ever  and  anon  in  his  saddle,  as  he  rode 
up  and  up  the  mountain  to  the  tryst  at  the  Big 
Hollow  Boulder,  he  saw  now  the  great  outward  bend 
of  the  mountain,  with  heavily  wooded  green  slopes 
under  the  gray  sky,  all  the  coloring  heightened  by 
the  impending  tufty  white  of  the  masses  of  silent 
approaching  vapor ;  the  surly  crags  of  the  terrace 
dark  with  the  moisture  and  the  shadow ;  and  the 
great  black  mass  of  the  charred  wood  still  sending 
up  a  slow,  melancholy  thread  of  smoke  where  the 
hotel  lay  in  ruins.  And  again,  looking  over  his 
shoulder  to  verify  some  half-forgotten  detail  of  the 
scene,  the  trees  twenty  feet  away  were  barely  vis 
ible  in  the  encompassing  medium,  so  fleetly  did 
the  impalpable  cloud  press  upon  them.  To  him, 
unversed  in  mountain  weather,  the  enterprise  of 
the  day  seemed  impracticable ;  and  he  was  half 
surprised  to  see  the  surveyor,  with  his  Jacob's 
staff  and  his  chain-bearers,  already  waiting  at  the 
boundary  corner.  The  figures  of  the  group  of 
men,  with  their  horses  picketed  hard  by,  stood  out 
against  the  inexpressive  whiteness  about  them  with 
the  distinctness  of  sketches  on  otherwise  blank 
paper.  They  were  easily  recognizable  even  from 
a  distance,  and  Cap'n  Lucy's  slim  proportions  and 
grace  of  movement  further  served  to  differentiate 
him  from  the  burlier  forms  of  the  others. 

"  Ah,  colonel,"  called  out  Kenniston  as  he  dis 
mounted,  u  you  here  ?  " 

It  might  hardly  be  believed  by  one  who  had  ex 
perienced  its  causticity,  but  Cap'n  Lucy's  tongue 


202  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

was  blunted  of  much  of  its  capacities  under  his  own 
roof-tree  by  the  exactions  of  hospitality.  Now  he 
felt  the  franchise  of  the  free  outer  air. 

"  I  'm  a  mighty  confidin'  young  critter,  I  know," 
he  replied,  advancing  a  few  paces  with  his  hands 
thrust  in  his  pockets,  "  but  this  hyar  man  "  —  he 
nodded  at  the  surveyor  and  affected  to  lower  his 
voice  confidentially — "  hev  got  the  name  o'  bein' 
sorter  tricky,  an'  I  'lowed  I  hed  better  kem  along 
like  a  good  neighbor  ter  holp  ye  some,  else  he 
mought  cheat  ye  out'n  a  passel  o'  Ian'." 

The  surveyor,  a  tall,  saturnine,  businesslike  body, 
took  not  the  slightest  notice  of  this  fling,  but  his 
two  young  chain-bearers  grinned  their  appreciation, 
and  the  other  men  laughed  outright  with  evident 
enjoyment,  notably  a  tall,  dark-eyed  fellow,  whom 
Kenniston  presently  recognized  as  the  deputy 
sheriff,  with  whom  he  had  already  had  some  slight 
colloquy  touching  the  possibly  incendiary  origin  of 
the  fire  that  had  destroyed  the  new  building.  The 
recollection  furnished  him  with  a  retort.  He  had 
flushed  darkly,  and  his  eyes  were  angry. 

"  I  should  n't  be  surprised  to  be  ill  treated  in  any 
way  now  in  the  Cove  —  after  what  has  happened." 

The  laughter  was  checked  by  his  tone.  The 
men  glanced  at  one  another  constrainedly.  Before 
his  coming,  the  event  had  promised  to  the  volun 
teer  assistants  an  episode  of  sociability  affording 
the  interchange  of  ideas  and  jocular  converse,  the 
interest  of  the  developments  sufficiently  great  to 
repay  them  for  the  hardship  of  the  steep  scramble 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  203 

down  the  mountain  side.  The  significance  of  the 
proceeding  was  reasserted,  and  the  silence  was  un 
broken  until  the  surveyor,  busily  adjusting  his  com 
pass,  remarked  to  Kenniston  that  he  had  noted 
one  or  two  blazes  indicating  an  old  line,  as  he  came 
up  the  mountain. 

"  Ye  won't  go  a-nigh  them  blazes !  "  cried  Cap'n 
Lucy  sarcastically,  waving  his  hand  along  an 
imaginary  line.  "  Ye  take  my  word  fur  it,  ye  won't 
see  them  blazes  'twixt  hyar  an'  the  mounting's 
foot." 

Kenniston  detected  a  covert  meaning  in  the  tone, 
and  glanced  keenly  around  at  the  speaker.  But 
Cap'n  Lucy's  face  was  as  enigmatically  satiric 
as  his  laughter  ;  and  as  Kenniston's  questioning 
stare  sought  out  the  son,  Luther  turned  away  to 
avoid  meeting  his  eyes,  lowering,  anxious,  and  it 
seemed  somehow  conscious.  Conscious,  too,  was  the 
hang-dog  manner  with  which  the  usually  bluff 
young  mountaineer  spoke  to  the  deputy  sheriff 
Ross,  observing  that  he  did  not  see  how  the  sur 
veyor  could  get  his  bearings  such  a  shut-in  day  as 
this. 

The  deputy  sheriff  had  found  it  easily  compat 
ible  with  his  interpretation  of  his  duty  to  spare 
the  time  to  assist  as  idle  spectator  at  anything 
promising  so  much  interest  and  excitement  as  the 
processioning  of  the  Kenniston  tract.  For  the 
antagonism  between  the  disputants  had  already 
been  noised  abroad,  and  Rodolphus  Ross,  albeit  a 
"peace  officer"  within  the  meaning  of  the  statute, 


204  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

was  not  so  attached  to  the  service  of  the  white- 
winged  goddess  that  he  did  not  cherish  a  lively 
expectation  of  whatever  sport  could  be  extracted 
from  Cap'n  Lucy's  and  Kenniston's  belligerent 
idiosyncrasies.  He  protested  now  so  clamorously 
that  it  might  seem  he  feared  that  this  unique  op 
portunity  would  be  wrested  from  him,  and,  assum 
ing  the  role  of  a  trustworthy  weather  prophet, 
maintained  that  whenever  it  rained  before  twelve 
o'clock,  noon,  an  early  clearance  was  the  certain 
sequel.  The  discussion  and  the  aspect  of  the 
weather  diverted  the  general  attention  from  Cap'n 
Lucy's  singular  words,  and  from  Luther's  unwill 
ingness  to  proceed  and  surly  disaffection. 

But  Kenniston,  whose  already  keen  observation 
was  whetted  by  the  appreciation  of  the  enmity  he 
sustained  and  the  magnitude  of  the  disaster  that 
had  befallen  him,  followed  Luther's  motion  with 
an  alert,  apprehending  eye,  and  hardly  lost  sight 
of  him  even  when  the  mists  swept  between  them 
and  gave  him  but  a  distorted  looming  presentment 
of  the  young  mountaineer ;  though  thus  carica 
tured,  Luther  never  lost  for  a  moment  his  unchar 
acteristic  and  already  significant  demeanor.  Small 
as  the  group  was,  the  figures  of  two  or  three  were 
now  and  again  abstracted  from  it,  as  if  literally 
caught  up  in  the  clouds,  slowly  materializing  again 
as  the  mists  shifted.  The  horses  hard  by  were 
sometimes  invisible  in  the  dense  white  medium, 
and  anon  only  their  heads  would  appear  here  and 
there  in  various  attitudes,  like  studies  for  a  cav- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  205 

airy  subject.  Even  the  Big  Hollow  Boulder,  the 
corner  of  the  lines,  seemed  to  recede,  and  again  was 
near  at  hand,  in  a  manner  altogether  inconsistent 
with  its  accepted  attributes  of  immovability  as  a 
monument  of  boundary.  The  great  felled  trees, 
lying  close  by  athwart  the  outcropping  ledges  of 
rock,  —  traces  of  the  mountain  tempest,  —  were 
obliterated  and  invisible  in  the  encompassing  white 
ness.  The  chilly  sound  of  the  rain  beating  heavily 
below  in  the  valley  rose  on  the  dank  air,  and  more 
than  once  the  white  gauzy  suffusions  of  the  encom 
passing  vapor  were  pervaded  with  a  transient  yellow 
glow,  broad  and  innocuous  reflections  of  the  light 
ning  of  the  storm  cloud  of  the  lower  levels. 

The  surveyor  was  a  tall,  well-knit  man  of  forty- 
five  or  fifty,  with  a  square,  short,  grizzled  beard 
decorating  his  chin,  high  cheek  bones,  a  blunt  nose, 
a  far-seeing  gray  eye,  and  a  quid  of  tobacco  that 
seemed  to  render  him  indifferent  to  the  joys  of 
conversation.  His  high  boots  were  drawn  to  the 
knees  over  his  trousers,  —  a  style  affected  by  the 
rest  of  the  party;  Kenniston's  correct  equestrian 
garb  being  sufficiently  dissimilar  to  give  him  that 
air  of  peculiarity  and  modishness  that  somehow 
seems  so  unworthy  and  flippant  among  plain  and 
humble  folk,  as  if  they  cared  for  better  things  than 
fashion.  It  made  him  a  trifle  ill  at  ease,  and  he 
had  a  sense  of  being  out  of  his  sphere,  added  to 
the  conviction  of  the  vicinage  of  enemies.  He  stood 
with  his  riding-whip  in  his  hand  beside  the  sur 
veyor  as  he  adjusted  his  instrument,  conscious  of 


206  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

sustaining  the  curious  attention  of  the  chain-bear 
ers,  two  stalwart  young  fellows  arrayed  in  brown 
jeans  and  heavy  boots,  amply  competent  for  the 
task  of  carrying  the  chain  through  that  rugged 
wilderness  ;  conscious,  too,  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  bril 
liant,  laughing,  handsome  eyes,  the  doubtful,  fur 
tive  glances  of  the  others,  and  Luther's  anxious, 
troubled  gaze. 

Suddenly,  with  an  infinitely  light,  elastic  effect 
that  permeated  all  its  vast  area,  the  cloud  began  to 
uplift ;  the  great  grassy  bald  of  the  mountain  tow 
ering  above  them  showed  its  vast  green  dome  as  it 
were  between  precipitous  white  cliffs  of  still  higher 
cloud  mountains.  An  eagle's  wing  caught  the  sun 
light  as  he  soared  above,  beyond  rifle  range,  and  as 
he  felt  the  rising  wind  his  keen,  exultant  cry  floated 
down  to  them.  A  tempered  white  glister  suffused 
all  the  clouds  about  them  ;  the  sun  was  out,  and 
as  the  illumined  masses  parted,  the  blue  mountains 
afar  off  now  glimmered  with  a  dusky  section  of  the 
quiet  valley  below,  and  again  were  veiled  with  the 
gleaming  gauze.  Between  its  shining  folds  a  glit 
tering  green  avenue  opened  out  down  the  woods,  as 
the  surveyor,  bending  first  to  take  sight,  then  hold 
ing  his  Jacob's  staff  stiffly  before  him,  set  out  from 
the  Big  Hollow  Boulder  with  a  fair  start  and  a 
long,  elastic  step;  the  two  chain-bearers  in  file 
alertly  followed,  alternately  bowing  down  and 
rising  again,  while  the  chain  writhed  through  the 
grass  between  them  like  some  living  sinuous  thing, 
ever  and  again  drawn  out  tense  and  straight,  and 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  207 

the  echoes  rang  with  the  strophe  and  antistrophe 
of  their  sudden  short  cry,  "Stick!"  "Stuck!" 
"Stick!"  "Stuck!" 

It  might  seem  that  all  the  oreads  of  the  Great 
Smoky  were  set  to  flight  by  this  invasion  of  their 
sylvan  haunts,  so  many  a  flitting  white  robe  flut 
tered  elusive  among  the  dense  shadows  of  the  trees, 
gone  ere  you  could  look  again ;  so  often  a  glisten 
ing  white  arm  was  upflung  in  the  deepest  green 
jungle  of  the  laurel.  They  sprang  up  by  every 
shadowy  cliff  and  lurking  chasm,  by  every  hidden 
spring  and  trickling  stream,  and  fled  with  tattered 
white  scarfs  streaming  in  the  wind  behind  them. 
All  the  way  the  rout  continued  as  Science  came 
down  the  slope,  led  by  a  compass  rather  than  the 
sun  or  the  shadow,  and  with  her  votaries  to  mete 
out  the  freedom  of  the  wilds,  and  the  grace  of  the 
contour  of  the  slopes,  and  the  beauty  of  herbage 
and  flowering  growth,  and  the  largess  of  the  gra 
cious  earth,  and  to  reduce  all  to  an  arbitrary  scale, 
and  judge  it  by  the  rod  or  perch  or  pole. 

The  grizzly  old  surveyor  saw  naught  of  this,  — 
not  even  when,  in  advance  of  all  the  company,  he 
threaded  the  sun-glinted  green  glade,  and  strode 
almost  in  the  midst  of  a  bevy  of  white  gauze-draped 
fleeing  figures.  Nor  his  chain-bearers,  young  though 
they  were,  and  presumably  impressionable,  —  not 
even  when  they  rose  from  their  alternate  genuflec 
tions,  and  their  sudden  call  "  Out !  "  resounded  on 
the  air,  though  they  stood  idle  and  looked  about 
them  while  the  surveyor  paused  to  mark  the  "  out." 


208  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Nor  Cap'n  Lucy,  as  light  and  swift  on  his  feet  as 
the  youngest,  fierce,  jaunty,  with  his  clear,  defiant 
eye.  Nor  Rodolphus  Ross,  finding  great  opportunity 
for  mirth  behind  Cap'n  Lucy's  back  as  he  scuffled 
along  amongst  the  knot  of  spectators,  keeping 
up  as  best  they  might,  skirting  the  barriers  that 
the  surveyor  and  his  chain-bearers,  constrained  by 
duty,  went  over,  and  tumbling,  pulling,  and  strug 
gling  with  each  other  now  and  then  for  the  best 
and  foremost  place.  "  Look  at  old  Cap'n  Terns !  " 
cried  Ross.  "  Ain't  he  the  very  model  of  a  game 
rooster?  He  ain't  big,  an'  he  ain't  strong,  an' 
he  ain't  heavy,  but  Lord  !  how  he  thinks  he  is  !  " 
Nor  Kenneth  Kenniston,  beginning  to  pause  now 
and  again,  —  albeit  he  did  not  flag,  despite  the 
hard  pull  over  the  impracticable  ground,  for  he 
was  a  man  of  stalwart  physique  and  a  practiced 
pedestrian,  —  to  look  instead  at  the  memorandum 
of  the  calls  of  the  title-deed,  which  original  pa 
per  the  surveyor  held  in  his  hand,  in  doubt  at 
first,  in  growing  dismay,  then  in  hot  and  mounting 
anger.  At  the  next  "  out,"  when  the  surveyor 
set  down  his  Jacob's  staff,  Kenniston  strode  over 
and  tapped  him  somewhat  imperatively  on  the 
shoulder. 

"  My  good  friend,"  he  said,  with  an  evident  effort 
at  self -repression,  "  are  you  not  making  some  mis 
take  ?  You  surely  are  not  following  the  calls  as 
they  are  set  forth  in  these  papers  ?  " 

To  the  professor  of  an  exact  science  the  sugges 
tion  of  mistake  is  an  imputation  of  incapacity. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  209 

The  claims  of  the  quid  of  tobacco  were  disregarded 
for  the  nonce.  The  surveyor  spoke,  albeit  with  his 
mouth  full,  and  spoke  to  the  point :  — 

"  I  reckon  I  know  what  I  'm  about,  Mr.  Kenn's- 
ton.  If  you  don't  like  the  way  I'm  runnin'  this 
line,  run  it  yerse'f." 

"  The  blazes  on  those  trees  on  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  that  you  called  my  attention  to,  indicat 
ing  the  old  line,  are  away  over  yonder  on  that  sharp 
ridge."  Kenniston  waved  his  hand  with  the  paper 
in  it  toward  a  high  rocky  crest  to  the  left ;  then  he 
fixed  insistent  eyes  on  the  surveyor,  and  stroked 
his  full  brown  whiskers  mechanically  with  the  other 
hand. 

The  surveyor  followed  with  perplexed  eyes  the 
direction  pointed  out.  He  gave  a  little  puzzled  sniff, 
as  if  he  sought  to  smell  the  line.  Then  he  reverted 
to  that  prop  of  common  sense,  his  Jacob's  staff. 

"  D  'ye  want  me  to  run  the  line  according  to  the 
compass  and  the  calls  of  the  title  papers,  or  by 
the  old  blazes  scattered  about  in  the  woods  on  the 
trees  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  You  don't  know  whether 
they  ever  were  intended  to  mark  the  line,  nor  who 
put  'em  thar,  nor  for  what.  I  know  they  ain't  no 
kin  ter  the  line  I  'in  runnin'  now,  'cordin'  ter  the 
calls  an'  the  compass." 

Once  more  he  took  his  bearings,  and,  holding  his 
Jacob's  staff  before  him,  walked  steadily  forward 
into  the  deeps  of  the  wilderness ;  the  two  sworn 
chain-bearers,  who  had  listened  with  indignant, 
sullen  brows  to  the  wrangle,  and  reflection  on  the 


210  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

work,  again  began  diligently  to  bow  down  and  rise 
up,  as  they  ejaculated  their  "  Stick !  "  "  Stuck !  " 
"  Stick !  "  "  Stuck  !  "  —  the  clanking  of  the  chain 
sounding  loud  and  metallic  in  the  sylvan  quiet. 
The  other  men,  with  their  shadows,  all  pressed  for 
ward  in  a  close  squad,  for  the  pause  had  given  the 
stragglers  time  to  gather. 

Kenniston  was  aware  that  Cap'n  Lucy  carried 
the  sympathies  and  good  wishes  of  all  the  company, 
save  perhaps  the  impartial  surveyor,  who  would 
suffer  himself  to  be  influenced  by  nothing  less  just 
than  his  compass.  He  realized  that  he  was  looked 
upon  as  the  "town  man,"  and  a  rich  one,  desirous 
of  wresting,  by  a  slight  technicality  of  the  law,  a 
very  little  land  from  a  poor  man  who  had  in  good 
faith  built  his  house  upon  it.  He  had  grown  ex 
tremely  bitter  in  his  sentiment  toward  the  people  of 
the  section  because  of  the  fire  in  which  so  much  of 
value  had  perished,  for  he  believed  its  origin  incen 
diary.  He  was  conscious  of  sustaining  much  an 
tagonism,  and  he  had  fiercely  resolved  to  deserve 
it.  He  had,  in  his  first  uncontrolled  rush  of  anger, 
declared  that  he  would  punish  somebody,  —  the 
true  culprit,  if  possible  ;  but  somebody  should  kick 
his  heels  in  jail  for  a  while,  and  go  to  the  peniten 
tiary  if  might  be.  He  did  not  in  reality  go  so  far 
in  feeling  as  in  expression,  but  his  was  not  a  pru 
dent  tongue.  He  earnestly  desired  success  in  the 
matter  of  the  processioning  ;  the  scheme  of  the  new 
hotel  had  grown  very  close  to  him ;  it  seemed  to  him 
that  one  log  cabin  might  serve  the  mountaineer  as 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  211 

well  as  another,  and  that,  moreover,  in  justice  to 
himself,  he  should  claim  his  own.  He  had  felt  sure, 
perfectly  sure,  that  his  deed  called  for  the  land  that 
Cap'n  Lucy  held.  For  the  first  time,  as  he  clam 
bered  with  the  rest  down  the  rugged  slopes,  a  doubt 
of  this  entered  his  mind.  It  made  him  wince  from 
the  probable  result.  He  was  not  prepared  to  oc 
cupy  the  position  of  having  sought  to  despoil  a 
man,  and  a  poor  man,  of  his  own,  his  very  own,  and 
fail.  He  knew  that  if  he  succeeded  the  country 
side  would  wish  that  he  had  failed,  and  Cap'n 
Lucy  would  be  a  popular  and  picturesque  object 
of  commiseration.  But  he  could  not  endure  the 
idea  of  the  rejoicings  in  his  failure.  To  work  a 
hardship  to  another  was  bad,  indeed,  and  he  had 
never  contemplated  it  without  the  salve  of  an  ample 
money  compensation.  To  futilely  seek  to  work  a 
hardship  was  far  worse.  Again  and  again  he  knit 
his  brows,  as  he  gazed  at  the  treacherous  annota 
tions  in  his  hand,  while  the  interchange  of  glances 
behind  him  commented  on  his  attitude  and  his  evi 
dent  state  of  mind.  Cap'n  Lucy,  who  could  not 
have  read  a  word  of  the  notes,  strode  on,  apparently 
indifferent  to  fate,  the  "  very  model  of  a  game  roos 
ter,"  esteeming  Kenniston's  show  of  anxiety  the 
merest  subterfuge ;  for  would  that  monument  of 
boundary  known  as  the  Big  Hollow  Boulder  have 
become  so  nimbly  peripatetic,  despite  its  tons  of 
weight,  if  the  line  run  out  therefrom  were  not  to  be 
materially  altered  for  the  betterment  of  the  claim 
ant  at  whose  instance  the  processioning  was  held  ? 


212  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

And  still  the  chain  clanked  and  writhed  its 
length  along  the  ground,  and  the  cries  "  Stick !  " 
"  Stuck !  "  of  the  chain-bearers  alternated  as  be 
fore,  until  the  sudden  call  "  Out !  "  resounded,  and 
the  surveyor  paused  to  mark  the  "  out "  once 
more. 


XII. 

As  the  surveyor  planted  his  Jacob's  staff  anew 
he  drew  a  long  sigh  of  fatigue,  and  gazed  out  dis 
cerningly  at  the  weather  signs  from  over  a  craggy, 
jutting  precipice  at  one  side,  which  in  its  savage 
bareness  disclosed  from  the  midst  of  the  dense 
forest  a  vast  expanse  of  the  tremulous  mountain 
landscape  below.  The  uncertain  flicker  of  the  sun 
shine  was  now  on  the  green  of  the  wooded  valley, 
which  presently  dulled  to  the  colorless  neutrality 
of  the  persistent  shadow,  albeit  the  summits  of  the 
far  horizon  line  gleamed  delicately  azure,  as  if  the 
tint  possessed  some  luminous  quality  and  glowed 
inherently  blue.  To  the  right  hung  masses  of 
vaporous  gray ;  and  beneath,  fine  serried  lines 
were  drawn  in  myriads  against  the  darker  tints 
of  half-seen  slopes,  where  the  rain  was  falling. 
Still  beyond,  a  great  glamourous  sunburst  appeared 
in  the  mist,  with  so  rayonnant  an  effect  of  the 
divergent  splendors  from  its  dazzling  focus  that  it 
might  seem  a  fleeting  glimpse  of  the  actual  wheel 
of  the  chariot  of  the  sun.  It  rolled  away  speedily. 
A  rainbow  barely  flaunted  its  chromatic  glories 
across  the  sky,  and  faded  like  an  illusion,  and  all 
the  world  was  gray  again ;  from  a  dead  bough 
starkly  thrust  out  of  the  wooded  slopes  half  way  to 
the  valley  a  rain  crow  was  calling  and  calling. 


214  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

The  other  men,  too,  were  looking  over  the  val 
ley,  so  long  obscured  by  the  dense  forest  trees  and 
still  denser  undergrowth  through  which  they  had 
taken  their  way.  It  seemed  much  nearer  than 
when  they  had  last  seen  it  from  the  dome,  even 
allowing  for  the  distance  they  had  traversed,  and 
they  noted,  with  that  interest  always  excited  by  a 
familiar  scene  from  a  new  standpoint,  the  aspect 
of  the  well-known  landmarks,  all  changed  and 
strange.  Kenniston  had  drawn  near  the  verge  ; 
he  stood  sharply  outlined  against  the  sky,  a  field- 
glass  in  his  hand,  which  again  and  again  he 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  smouldering  black  mass 
on  the  cliffs  far  below  that  once  was  the  new  hotel, 
only  to  be  located  now  by  the  thinly  curling  smoke 
from  its  ruins.  The  instrument  was  familiar 
enough  to  the  mountaineers,  who  had  most  of  them 
observed  its  use  during  the  war  ;  but  to  a  certain 
type  of  rustic  an  affectation  of  ignorance  is  the 
prettiest  of  jests. 

"  Say,  mister,"  Rodolphus  Ross  adjured  him, 
with  a  show  of  eager  anxiety,  "  air  yer  contraption 
strong  enough  ter  view  enny  insurance  on  that  thar 
buildin'  ?  " 

The  echo  caught  his  laughter  and  blended  it 
with  the  rain  crow's  call.  He  was  not  sensitive 
himself,  and  he  could  not  appreciate  sensitiveness 
in  others.  The  fact  that  the  building  had  perished 
in  the  flames,  without  insurance,  was  well  known 
to  the  community ;  and  how  could  it  help  or  hinder 
that  he  should  sharpen  his  wits  by  a  little  exercise 
on  the  theme  ? 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  215 

Kenniston  made  no  reply,  still  sweeping  the 
landscape  with  his  glass.  As  the  surveyor  bent  to 
take  sight,  Kenniston  suddenly  turned. 

"  Stop,"  he  said ;  "  you  will  stop  this  farce  right 
here.  This  is  a  conspiracy  !  " 

The  surveyor,  still  in  his  stooping  posture,  looked 
at  him  in  amazement. 

"  Hey  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  as  if  he  did  not  believe 
his  senses. 

"  A  conspiracy !  "  Kenniston  reiterated. 

The  surveyor,  in  the  course  of  his  brawny  career, 
had  been  offered  few  insults,  and  these  he  had 
promptly  requited  with  stout  blows.  But  the  sight 
of  a  man  who  has  lost  reason,  temper,  and  policy 
together  has  sometimes  a  steadying  effect  on  the 
spectator.  Besides,  he  was  in  the  performance  of 
a  sworn  duty,  and,  being  a  faithful  and  efficient 
officer  of  the  county,  he  had  a  high  ideal  of  the 
functions  of  his  office.  He  was  nettled  by  Kennis- 
ton's  self-magnifying  attitude,  but  it  was  obviously 
in  order  to  give  him  the  correct  measurements, 
not  of  himself,  but  of  his  land,  and  although  he 
retorted,  it  was  in  good  enough  temper. 

"  Conspirin'  with  the  meridian  line  ?  "  he  de 
manded,  with  a  sneer,  thrusting  his  quid  of  to 
bacco  into  his  leather  jaw  with  a  tongue  grown  ex 
pert  by  long  practice  in  thus  clearing  the  way  for 
its  own  utterances.  "  Or  maybe  ye  think  the  points 
o'  the  compass  have  got  in  a  mutiny  against  ye  ?  " 

Cap'n  Lucy  came  alongside  the  Jacob's  staff, 
and  gave  Kenniston  a  rallying  wink,  sly,  malicious, 


216  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

sarcastic,  and  altogether  unworthy  of  the  fine  eye 
^that  it  eclipsed.  "  Conspirin'  with  a  monimint  o' 
boundary  knowed  ez  Big  Hollow  Boulder?"  he 
said. 

Luther  turned  away  suddenly,  with  an  accession 
of  hang-dog  f urtiveness  in  his  manner,  and  Kennis- 
ton's  fury  was  stemmed  for  the  moment  by  his  sur 
prise  and  doubt  and  bewilderment.  Still  with  chol 
eric  color  mantling  his  face,  his  eyes  bright  and 
wide,  his  white  teeth  pressing  on  the  lip  which  he 
was  biting  visibly  despite  the  thick  abundance  of 
beard,  with  all  the  fire  eliminated  from  the  angry 
facial  expression  that  he  yet  retained,  he  stared 
silently  at  Captain  Lucy,  who  was  scornfully  laugh 
ing.  The  surveyor  took  advantage  of  the  seeming 
lucidity  of  the  interval  to  seek  to  rehabilitate 
pacific  relations. 

"  I  can't  help  how  ye  expected  the  line  ter  run 
out,  Mr.  Kenniston.  I  'm  runnin'  it  'cordin'  ter 
the  calls  an'  the  compass.  Ye  an'  Cap'n  Terns  are 
here  as  owners  o'  the  adjoinin'  tracts,  ter  see  it 
done  fur  yer selves." 

"  Not  me !  "  cried  Cap'n  Lucy.  "  I  ain't  looked 
at  yer  durned  bodkin  "  (thus  he  demeaned  the  mag 
netic  needle)  "  sence  I  kem  out.  It  mought  wag 
gle  todes  the  north  pole,  like  ye  sez  it  do,  —  'pears 
onstiddy  enough  fur  ennything,  —  or  it  mought 
waggle  todes  the  east  pole.  I  ain't  keerin'.  It 
may  know  the  poles  whenst  it  sees  'em,  —  though  I 
dunno  ef  that  needle  hev  got  an  eye.  My  main 
dependence  air  in  that  monimint  o'  boundary 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  217 

knowed  ez  the  Big  Hollow  Boulder  —  corner  rock 
—  corner  o'  the  lines  —  oh  my !  —  yes !  " 

The  significance  of  this  was  hardly  to  be  over 
looked. 

"  See  here,  Cap'n  Lucy,"  said  Kenniston,  sud 
denly  dropping  his  aggressions  even  to  the  unusual 
point  of  giving  the  old  man  his  accustomed  title, 
"  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

Cap'n  Lucy  gave  him  a  broadside  of  big  bright 
eyes. 

"Why,  don't  you-uns  know  that  monimint  o' 
boundary  knowed  ez  Big  Hollow  Boulder  —  corner 
mark  —  been  thar  so  long  ?  " 

"Well,  what  about  it?"  demanded  Kenniston 
impatiently. 

"Why,  it's  known  ez  Big  Hollow  Boulder, 
'cordin'  ter  yer  own  notice  posted  up  at  the  mill," 
said  Cap'n  Lucy  tantalizingly. 

Kenniston  still  stared,  and  the  surveyor,  seeking 
to  cut1  short  a  futile  waste  of  time,  bent  once  more 
to  take  sight.  "  The  only  way  ter  git  things  settled 
is  ter  run  out  the  line  'cordin'  ter  the  calls  an'  the 
compass,  an'  I  'm  a-doin'  of  it  fair  an'  square." 

"  There  is  something  radically  wrong,"  persisted 
Kenniston  angrily.  Then  turning  to  Cap'n  Lucy, 
he  continued  vehemently,  "  I  know  —  and  you 
know  —  that  Wild  Duck  River  is  on  my  land,  and 
does  n't  touch  yours  in  any  of  its  windings ;  and 
look  there !  —  Wild  Duck  FaUs !  " 

He  pointed  diagonally  across  a  ravine,  where, 
amidst  the  dusky  depths  of  green  shadows,  and 


218  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

close  to  a  gray  cloud  that  came  surging  through 
the  valley,  a  narrow,  gleaming,  white,  feathery 
mountain  cataract,  with  an  impetus  and  a  motion 
like  the  flight  of  an  arrow  smartly  sped  from  the 
bow,  shot  down  into  the  gorge. 

It  transfixed  Cap'n  Lucy.  He  stood  staring  at 
it,  motionless,  amazed,  it  might  seem  aghast.  For 
the  boundary  line  that  the  surveyor  was  running 
according  to  the  compass  and  calls  had  thrown 
within  his  tract  this  mountain  torrent,  this  wayward 
alien,  which  he  had  known  for  many  a  year  as  the 
native  of  the  Kenniston  woods. 

"  It  makes  no  difference,  gentlemen,  what  ye  hev 
'lowed  ye  owned,  an'  what  ye  did  n't,"  interposed 
the  surveyor :  "  this  boundary  line  I  'm  runnin'  out 
will  show  ye  the  exac'  extent  o'  yer  possessions." 
And  once  more  he  bent  to  take  sight. 

Then  he  rose  and  stalked  forward,  his  Jacob's 
staff  held  before  him,  his  eyes  intent  and  fixed,  the 
links  of  the  chain  once  more  dully  clanking  as  it 
writhed  through  the  grass,  and  the  chain-bearers, 
with  their  cabalistic  refrain,  "  Stick !  "  "  Stuck !  " 
bowing  down  and  rising  up,  as  they  ever  and  again 
drew  it  out  taut  to  its  extreme  length  between  them. 

The  spectators  followed  on  either  hand,  plunging 
into  the  deeper  forest,  which,  as  it  interposed 
before  the  cliffs,  cut  off  the  view  of  the  wide  land 
scape,  that  seemed  lifted  into  purer  light  and  more 
transparent  color  by  the  contrast  with  the  bosky 
shadows  as  it  disappeared,  and  again  was  vaguely 
glimpsed  between  the  boles  and  hanging  branches, 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  219 

and  once  more  vanished,  leaving  the  aspect  of  the 
world  the  bare  breadth  of  the  herder's  trail  through 
the  laurel. 

Two  of  the  men  —  shaggy  of  beard  and  of  hair, 
and  shabbier  far  of  garb  than  the  others  —  gazed 
at  the  proceeding  with  the  eyes  of  deep  wonderment 
and  reluctant  acceptance,,  as  if  it  were  some  formula 
of  necromancy  which  revolted  credulity.  They 
were  denizens  of  a  deeply  secluded  cove  near  by, 
lured  hither  by  the  report  of  the  processioning,  and 
looking  for  the  first  time  upon  the  simple  parapher 
nalia  of  land-surveying,  —  the  chain,  the  Jacob's 
staff,  and  the  compass ;  even  the  surveyor  and  the 
chain-bearers  were  only  the  verification  of  wild 
rumors  that  had  reached  them.  They  were  not 
unintelligent ;  they  were  only  uninformed.  The 
knowledge  and  experience  of  the  commonplace  pro 
cess  which  the  others  possessed  might  hardly  be 
considered  an  adequate  set-off  against  such  fresh 
and  illimitable  capacities  of  impressionability. 
Few  people  can  so  enjoy  a  day  of  sight-seeing  as 
fell  to  the  share  of  these  denizens  of  "  Painter  Flats." 

Kenniston  lingered  for  a  few  minutes,  still  sweep 
ing  with  the  field-glass  the  rugged  ravine  where 
Wild  Duck  Falls  gleamed  white,  swift,  amidst  the 
deep,  dusky  green  shadows :  disappearing  beneath 
the  approaching  gray  cloud  as  its  filmy  gauzes  ex 
panded  and  floated  into  the  larger  spaces  of  the  ra 
vine,  then  piercing  its  draperies  with  a  keen,  glim 
mering  shaft  of  white  light,  and  vanishing  again 
as  the  cloud  thickened  and  condensed  in  its  passage 


220  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

through  the  narrowing  limits  of  the  gorge.  He 
turned  away  at  last,  the  glass  still  in  his  hand,  fol 
lowing  hard  on  the  steps  of  the  surveyor,  marking 
all  the  successive  stages  of  the  proceedings  with  a 
keen,  alert,  inimical  observation.  He  wore  a  grim, 
set  face,  and  his  manner  expressed  a  sustained  abey 
ance,  watchfulness,  and  a  dangerous  readiness. 

The  landmarks  were  such  as  were  easily  common 
to  any  line.  When  the  deed  had  called  for  four 
hundred  and  fifteen  poles  northwest  to  a  white  oak- 
tree,  the  chain-bearers  had  brought  up,  without 
a  link  amiss,  at  the  gnarled  foot  of  one  of  a  clus 
ter  of  such  trees.  A  half-obliterated  indentation 
upon  it  the  surveyor  accepted  as  the  specific  mark 
of  identification,  although  others  considered  it  an 
old  "  blaze  "  indicating  an  ancient  trail,  and  Ken- 
niston  declared  it  merely  a  "  cat-face."  Again,  the 
line,  diverging,  ran  due  north  eight  hundred  poles 
to  a  stake  in  the  middle  of  Panther  Creek.  The 
chain  found  the  middle  easily  enough,  though  not 
the  stake,  which  was,  of  course,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  a  temporary  mark,  and  liable  to  be  carried 
away  in  a  freshet,  or  broken  down  by  floating  logs 
or  other  obstruction.  The  stream,  however,  kept 
an  almost  perfectly  straight  line  —  barring  the 
slight  sinuous  meandering  inherent  to  a  natural 
channel  which  did  not  affect  the  general  direction 
—  for  more  than  a  mile  through  a  grassy  glade  al 
most  free  of  undergrowth,  purling  along  under  the 
shadow  of  the  great  trees  and  rocks.  Thus,  if  the 
previous  markings  were  correct,  this  of  necessity 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  221 

depended  upon  them.  The  surveyor  had  a  stub 
driven  down,  in  place  of  the  missing  stake,  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  re-marking  the  line  accord 
ing  to  the  law.  Once  more  the  chain-bearers,  drip 
ping  like  spaniels  from  their  excursions  into  the 
water,  began  their  series  of  genuflections  and  their 
ringing  outcry,  "  Stick !  "  "  Stuck !  " 

All  had  observed  Kenniston  curiously  during  the 
halt,  and  the  doubt  and  discussion  as  to  the  missing 
mark,  expectant  of  some  wrathful  demonstration. 
If  he  did  not  coincide  with  the  surveyor's  opinion, 
he  made  no  sign.  In  one  sense,  his  demeanor 
balked  them  of  the  amusement  which  they  had 
ravenously  looked  for.  He  made  no  protest,  which, 
reasonable  or  unreasonable,  they  would  have  rel 
ished.  His  attitude,  his  face,  his  words,  were  con 
strained  to  a  stern  neutrality  and  inexpressiveness. 
He  seemed  only  grimly  watchful,  waiting.  The 
change  itself  afforded  food  for  speculation,  an 
entertainment  more  subtle  and  of  keener  interest 
than  his  previous  outbreaks,  although  less  alluring 
to  the  maliciously  mirthful  spectator.  It  seemed, 
however,  to  disconcert  the  surveyor  more  than  active 
interference  and  aggression.  Submissiveness  is  so 
abnormal  a  trait  in  a  man  of  Kenniston's  type  that 
its  symptoms  indicate  a  serious  moral  crisis.  Now 
and  again,  the  surveyor,  pausing  to  mark  the  "  out," 
appealed  directly  to  him.  To  be  sure,  the  remark 
was  in  relation  to  the  weather,  for  the  clouds  were 
gathering  overhead,  a  slate-tinted  canopy,  seeming 
close  upon  the  summits  of  the  tall  trees,  till  a 


222  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

white  lacelike  film  scudding  across  it  in  contrary 
currents  of  the  wind  served  to  show,  by  the  force 
of  comparison,  the  true  distance  of  the  higher 
vapors.  Kenniston  had  only  monosyllables  for 
reply,  and  the  man  of  the  compass  could  but  mop 
his  brow,  and  listen  anxiously  to  the  distant  rum 
blings  of  thunder,  and  wish  this  troublous  piece  of 
work  well  over,  and  take  his  bearings  anew.  When 
the  call  in  the  deed  for  a  girdled  and  dead  poplar- 
tree  was  found  to  have  no  correspondent  mark  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  being,  as  he  observed,  a  mark 
bound  to  be  obliterated  in  the  course  of  time,  since 
the  tree  was  dead  when  the  deed,  which  was  of  re 
mote  date,  was  written,  Kenniston's  silence  had 
evidently  an  unnerving  effect. 

"  Why,  look  here,"  the  surveyor  broke  out  in 
self-defense  at  length.  "I  ain't  got  no  sort  o' 
interest  in  the  line  except  to  run  it  according  ter 
the  calls  an'  the  compass.  I  '11  git  my  fees,  whether 
or  no.  'T  ain't  nuthin'  ter  me  which  gits  the  most 
Ian',  you  or  Cap'n  Terns." 

As  Kenniston  still  continued  silent,  he  looked 
appealingly  at  Cap'n  Lucy,  and,  receiving  no 
encouragement,  set  his  teeth,  addressed  himself 
to  his  work,  and  communed  thenceforward  with 
naught  more  responsive  than  his  Jacob's  staff. 

But  what,  alack,  had  befallen  Cap'n  Lucy? 
Did  ever  a  gamecock,  that  had  never  so  much 
as  felt  his  adversary's  gaff,  drop  his  feathers  so 
suddenly  ?  He  was  all  at  once  old,  tired,  anxious, 
troubled.  He  tugged  along  at  the  rear  of  the  party, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  223 

lagging  and  flagging  as  he  had  never  done  on  cer 
tain  forced  marches  that  had  seemed  a  miracle 
of  endurance.  For  Cap'n  Lucy's  frame  had  been 
upborne  by  his  spirit  in  those  ordeals,  and  now 
that  ethereal  valiance  had  deserted  him.  For 
what  mystery  was  this  ?  The  moving  of  the  monu 
ment  of  boundary  "known  as  the  Big  Hollow 
Boulder  "  —  he  thought  of  it  thus  for  the  first  time 
without  the  sneer  of  inscrutable  offense  which  the 
rotund  phrasing  had  occasioned  —  had,  instead  of 
stripping  him  of  his  possessions,  resulted  in  throw 
ing  much  land,  which  he  doubted  not  belonged  to 
his  neighbor,  within  his  own  lines.  That  Kennis- 
ton  had  himself  moved  the  corner  landmark  or 
connived  at  the  commission  of  this  felony,  if  not 
otherwise  preposterous,  was  thus  rendered  abso 
lutely  incredible.  But  who,  then,  could  have  moved 
it  ?  When  ?  How  ?  For  what  unimaginable  rea 
son  ?  How  strange  that  he  should  have  discovered 
the  change  !  And  what  mad  freak  of  fate  was  it 
that  it  should  be  he,  he  himself,  who  should  profit 
by  it,  acquiring  the  legal  title  to  hundreds  of  acres 
at  Kenniston's  expense  ?  Cap'n  Lucy  was  an 
honest  man,  and  the  thought  made  him  gasp.  Had 
it  been  possible,  he  would  at  that  moment  have 
flung  all  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains  at  Kennis 
ton's  feet.  No  recantation  was  too  bitter,  no  renun 
ciation  was  too  complete,  rather  than  be  suspected, 
with  any  show  of  reason,  as  he  had  suspected  Ken- 
niston.  Not  that  he  cared  for  the  groundless  sus 
picion,  but  for  its  justification.  This  consideration 


224  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

summoned  his  tardy  policy.  He  must  needs  have 
time  to  think.  Were  he  bluntly  to  declare  the 
corner-stone  to  have  been  moved,  it  might  seem  to 
criminate  himself  ;  for  albeit  the  line  was  running 
to  his  advantage  here,  who  could  say  how  its  diver 
gences  might  affect  his  possessions  lower  down 
on  the  mountain  ?  "  Windin'  an'  a-twistin'  like 
the  plumb  old  tarnation  sarpient  o'  hell !  "  Cap'n 
Lucy  vigorously  described  it  in  a  mutter  to  his 
beard. 

Moreover,  even  if  the  later  results  were  also  to 
his  benefit,  as  it  had  been  notoriously  contrary  to 
his  wishes  that  the  land  should  be  processioned  at 
all,  it  might  seem  that  moving  the  boulder  had 
been  his  scheme  to  thus  thwart  any  definite  estab 
lishment  of  the  line  of  boundary,  —  and  this  was 
a  felony. 

Cap'n  Lucy  experienced  a  sudden  affection  of 
the  spine  which  seemed  to  him  abnormal,  and,  at 
the  moment,  possibly  fatal,  so  curious,  so  undreamed 
of  heretofore,  were  its  symptoms.  A  cold  chill 
trembled  along  its  fibres;  responsive  cold  drops 
bedewed  his  forehead.  His  hand  had  lost  its  nor 
mal  temperature,  and  was  cold  to  the  touch.  For 
the  first  time  in  all  his  life  Cap'n  Lucy's  nerves 
were  made  acquainted  with  the  shock  of  fear.  He 
did  not  identify  it ;  he  could  not  recognize  it.  He 
was  spared  this  acute  mortification.  He  only  felt 
strangely  ill  and  undecided  and  tremulous,  and  he 
doubted  his  survival.  He  began  to  wonder  if  Ken- 
niston  suspected  aught.  He  no  longer  questioned 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  225 

the  genuineness  of  his  enemy's  demeanor  earlier  in 
the  day,  when  each  unexpected  divergence  of  the 
line  had  seemed  by  turns  to  perturb  and  to  anger 
him.  Cap'n  Lucy  noted  the  cessation  of  the  pro 
testations,  the  grimly  set  jaw,  the  smouldering  fire 
of  the  eye,  the  attitude  of  tense  expectancy  and 
waiting.  He  wondered  if  Kenniston  were  "  laying 
for  "  him  now  as  he  had  been  "  laying  for  "  Kennis 
ton.  He  thought  of  the  intention  deferred  from 
"  out  "  to  "  out "  to  loudly  proclaim  his  discovery 
of  the  removal  of  the  corner  landmark,  of  his  relish 
of  his  enemy's  fancied  security  in  outwitting  him. 
He  had  only  given  Kenniston  a  little  line,  a  little 
more,  as  it  were,  that  he  might  hang  himself  with 
it,  and  now,  forsooth,  this  noose  was  at  his  own 
service. 

He  felt  a  moderate  and  tempered  gratulation 
that  he  had  not  been  precipitate  in  the  matter,  that 
as  yet  no  one  knew  of  his  discovery  ;  but  suddenly 
he  remembered  his  ill-starred  confidence  to  Luther. 
For  the  first  time  he  marked  his  son's  furtive, 
skulking,  downcast  manner. 

"Like  a  sheep-killin'  dog!"  said  Cap'n  Lucy 
to  himself,  in  a  towering  rage.  "  What  ef  he  do 
know  it 's  been  moved  :  did  I  move  it  ?  " 

He  remembered,  too,  his  reiterated  allusions  to 
the  perambulatory  boulder,  and  Kenniston's  amaze 
ment,  which  then  he  had  thought  affectation,  but 
which  he  now  believed  to  be  quite  genuine.  Were 
they  the  exciting  cause,  so  to  speak,  of  that  grim 
air  of  abeyance  and  biding  his  time  ? 


226  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"The  boulder  can't  be  put  back,"  said  Cap'n 
Lucy  to  himself,  suddenly  on  the  defensive.  "  No 
body  could  make  out  whar  it  kem  from  fust,  'kase 
it  never  lef '  a  trace  on  the  rock ;  an'  a  dozen  horse 
could  n't  haul  it  up  sech  a  steep  slope.  It  mus' 
hev  been  blowed  down  by  dam-i-nite." 

It  was  a  fine  illustration  of  a  moral  descent, 
impossible  to  be  retraced ;  but  Cap'n  Lucy  did  not 
think  of  that.  His  mind  was  full  of  the  complica 
tions  of  his  position,  the  dangers  of  disclosure,  and 
the  impossibility  to  him  of  accepting  the  boundary 
line,  thus  taking  possession  of  another  man's  land, 
even  if  the  owner  would  compose  himself  to  sleep 
upon  his  rights.  Judging  from  Kenniston's  looks, 
it  was  easily  to  be  argued  that  he  would  prove  very 
wide  awake  in  this  emergency. 

But  for  the  changing  weather  signs  the  old  man's 
altered  demeanor  might  have  encountered  other  no 
tice  than  Kenniston's  keen  watchfulness.  Now  and 
again  the  thunder  pealed  among  the  mountain  tops, 
and  the  slate-colored  cloud  had  spread  until  it  over 
hung  all  the  visible  world,  when  they  once  more 
drew  so  near  to  the  verge  of  the  precipice  as  to  have 
glimpses  of  the  densely  wooded  cove  and  the  cir 
cling  mountains.  The  ranges  were  all  sombre  gray 
or  deeply  purple,  save  far  away,  where  some  rift  in 
the  clouds  admitted  a  skein  of  sunbeams  suspended 
in  fibrous  effect  over  a  distant  slope  that  was  a 
weird  yellowish-green  in  this  scant  illumination 
which  had  fallen  to  its  share,  rendered  more  marked 
by  the  dull  estate  of  its  dun-tinted  and  purple  com- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  227 

peers.  Nearer  at  hand,  the  shadows  were  deepen 
ing  momently  in  the  forest.  Once  or  twice,  when 
the  sharp  blades  of  the  lightnings  cleft  them,  the 
lifeless  bronze  aisles  of  the  woods  sprang  into  a 
transient  glare  of  brilliant  green  that  was  hardly 
less  dazzling,  and  again  the  thunder  pealed. 

Two  or  three  of  the  mountaineers  left  the  party, 
evidently  with  no  mind  to  be  drenched.  A  man 
with  a  hacking  cough  remained,  animated  by  that 
indisposition  to  self-denial,  that  avidity  of  enjoy 
ment,  that  determination  to  seize  all  which  niggard 
life  holds  out,  characteristic  of  a  type  of  consump 
tive  invalids.  "  'T  ain't  goin'  ter  rain,"  he  de 
clared  buoyantly.  It  might  seem  that  nothing  less 
potent  than  powder  and  lead  could  wean  from  the 
sight  of  processioning  the  land  the  two  denizens  of 
Panther  Flats.  They  patrolled  every  step  that  the 
surveyor  took.  Whenever  he  paused,  they  came 
up  and  stared,  fascinated,  and  at  close  quarters,  at 
the  Jacob's  staff.  They  counted  the  chains  from 
"  out "  to  "  out."  As  one  of  them  observed  to  the 
other,  he  "  was  just  beginning  to  get  the  hang  of 
the  thing."  He  could  keep  under  shelter  at  a  more 
convenient  season. 

A  sudden  flash  that  seemed  to  pierce  the  very 
brain,  so  did  it  outdazzle  the  capacity  of  vision,  a 
simultaneous  deafening  detonation,  beneath  which 
the  mountains  appeared  to  quake  and  to  cry  out 
with  a  terrible  voice,  while  again  and  again  the 
echoes  repeated  the  thunderous  menace,  and  then 
all  the  air  was  permeated  by  a  swift  electrical  illu- 


228  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

mination,  visibly  transient,  but  so  instantly  suc 
ceeded  by  a  similar  effect  that  it  seemed  perma 
nent,  —  in  this  weird  glare  the  surveyor  bent  once 
more  to  take  sight. 

"  Old  man  sticks  ter  his  contrac'  like  a  sick 
kitten  ter  a  hot  brick !  "  cried  Rodolphus  Ross  to 
one  of  the  chain-bearers. 

But  the  chain-bearers  had  scant  sympathy  for 
the  spectators,  and  visited  upon  the  company  in 
general  their  displeasure  because  of  the  reflections 
upon  the  "  old  man's  "  work,  for  which  Kenniston 
alone  was  responsible. 

"  Why  n't  ye  wear  yer  muzzle,  'Dolphus  ?"  the 
one  addressed  retorted  gruffly. 

Most  of  the  party  had  now  deserted  the  spec 
tacle,  in  deference  to  a  timely  admonition  as  to 
the  fate  of  the  horses  picketed  on  the  "  bald,"  and 
their  peculiar  susceptibility  to  the  fear  of  lightning. 
When  the  progress  of  the  surveying  again  brought 
its  adherents  to  the  verge  of  the  mountain  and  an 
extended  outlook  over  the  valley,  there  remained 
only  the  two  men  from  Panther  Flats,  Rodolphus 
Ross,  Cap'n  Lucy,  the  chain-bearers,  the  surveyor, 
Luther,  and  the  owner  of  the  tract  at  whose  instance 
the  processioning  was  made. 

As  they  looked  out  over  the  gray  valley,  distinct 
under  the  sombre  sky,  as  though  only  color,  and 
not  light,  were  withdrawn,  —  Cap'n  Lucy's  cabin, 
the  inclosures,  the  grim  black  crags  beyond, 
the  smouldering  mass  of  the  ruins  of  the  burnt 
building,  even  the  shanties  of  the  workmen  in  the 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  229 

gorge  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs,  all  perfectly  distin 
guishable  in  their  varied  interpretation  of  gray  and 
brown  and  blurring  unnamed  gradations  of  neutral 
tones,  all  overhung  by  the  storm-cloud  definitely 
and  darkly  purplish-black,  with  now  and  again,  one 
knew  not  how,  fleeting  lurid  green  reflections,  — 
Kenniston,  brisk  and  dapper,  lightly  tapping  his 
spurred  boots  with  his  riding-whip,  smiling  debo 
nairly,  but  with  a  dangerous  sarcastic  gleam  in  his 
fiery  eyes,  stepped  up  to  the  surveyor.  He  carried 
his  field-glass  in  one  hand. 

"  Now,  if  you  will  come  a  few  paces  this  way,  — 
and  you,  colonel,"  in  parenthesis  to  poor  Cap'n 
Lucy,  —  "  and  use  your  telescope,  you  are  obliged 
to  see  that  if  you  run  out  the  line  seventeen  hun 
dred  poles  to  the  north,  according  to  the  deed,  you 
will  go  beyond  the  site  of  the  hotel.  I  seem  to 
have  built  my  house  on  the  colonel's  land.  It  was 
your  house  that  was  destroyed,  colonel.  Let  me 
beg  you  to  accept  my  condolences,  —  ha,  ha,  ha !  " 

A  flash  brighter  than  all  that  had  preceded  it, 
and  his  satiric  laughter  was  lost  in  the  roll  and  the 
reverberation  of  the  thunder.  A  sudden  darkening 
overspread  the  landscape,  like  a  visible  thickening 
of  the  clouds  ;  the  form  of  a  horse  darted  along  the 
verge  of  the  precipice,  so  swift,  so  gigantic,  defined 
against  the  green  suffusions  of  that  purple-black 
storm-cloud,  that  it  seemed  like  the  materialization 
of  the  hero  of  some  equine  fable.  A  wild  cry  went 
up  that  the  horses  had  broken  loose,  and  were 
stampeding  through  the  woods.  A  terrible  wrench- 


230  NTS    VANISHED  STAR. 

ing,  riving  sound  followed  another  flash,  and  they 
could  see  a  stricken  tree  on  the  slope  below,  in  the 
instant  before  the  blinding  descent  of  the  torrents. 
The  wind  rose  with  a  wild,  screaming  cry ;  the  for 
ests  bent  and  writhed ;  no  one  of  the  party  could 
discern  his  neighbor's  face  ;  and,  despite  the  pluck 
of  the  surveyor,  the  processioning  of  the  Kenniston 
tract  remained  unfinished. 


XIII. 

CAP'N  LUCY  enjoyed  in  his  own  family  an  im 
munity  from  interference,  criticism,  and  filial  in 
surgency  that  was  truly  patriarchal.  His  word  was 
law ;  his  every  thought  was  wisdom ;  all  his  deal 
ings  embodied  the  fullest  expression  of  justice. 
Until  his  unlucky  disclosure  to  Luther  of  his  dis 
covery  of  the  strange  removal  of  the  Big  Hollow 
Boulder,  and  the  interpretation  he  placed  upon  it, 
imputing  to  Kenniston  a  crime  of  such  importance, 
involving  consequences  so  grave,  his  son  had  never 
entertained  a  moment's  doubt  of  the  sufficiency  of 
his  prudence,  the  absolute  infallibility  of  his  judg 
ment,  the  integrity  of  all  his  prejudices,  notwith 
standing  his  arbitrary  temper,  his  high-handed  meth 
ods,  and  his  frequent  precipitancy.  Such  remon 
strance  as  ever  was  ventured  upon  usually  emanated 
f rom  Adelicia,  in  the  interest  of  her  pacific  proclivi 
ties  ;  or  to  sue  uncle  Lucy's  clemency  for  some  object 
of  his  most  righteous  displeasure ;  or  to  prevail  upon 
him  to  blindly  consider  some  untoward  chance  a 
blessing  in  disguise.  Now  and  then,  too,  she  in 
dulged  in  some  solicitude  lest  the  affluence  of  his 
courage  should  lead  him  into  danger.  But  to  his 
own  children  "  dad  "  had  always  seemed  more  than 
capable  of  coping  with  all  the  forces  of  nature,  ani- 


232  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

mate  and  inanimate  ;  and  as  the  day  of  the  proces 
sioning  of  the  land  wore  on,  Julia  listened,  with 
her  silent  smile  of  sarcastic  comment,  to  Adelicia's 
monologue  of  argument  of  alternate  fears  and  re 
assurance  for  uncle  Lucy's  sake.  First,  lest  Mr. 
Kenniston  succeed  in  unjustly  wresting  some  of 
his  land  from  him.  "  But,"  she  declared  buoyantly, 
"  the  surveyor  won't  let  him  !  "  Then,  lest  a  per 
sonal  collision  ensue,  to  her  bellicose  relative's 
injury.  "  But  uncle  Lucy  ain't  been  often  tackled ; 
ennybody  kin  see  he  'd  hev  a  mighty  free  hand  in  a 
fight."  And  again  she  was  reduced  to  fear  simply 
that  things  in  general  might  fall  out  to  the  mag 
nate's  dissatisfaction.  "  But  uncle  Lucy  's  been 
mighty  mad  a  heap  o'  times  before,  an'  't  ain't  set 
him  back  none,"  she  argued  blithely.  And  so  the 
atmosphere  within  cleared  as  the  sky  without 
darkened,  and  the  domestic  industries  went  forward 
apace. 

It  was  during  one  of  the  deceptive  withdrawals 
of  the  lowering  storm-cloud,  revealing  great  ex 
panses  of  blue  sky,  when  the  sunshine  was  a-flicker 
once  more  over  the  landscape,  albeit  somewhat  wan 
and  tremulous,  and  a  wind  had  sprung  up,  faint  and 
short  of  breath,  and  disposed  to  lulls  and  sighs,  but 
still  setting  mists  and  clouds  astir,  that  Julia  went 
forth  upon  an  errand  some  distance  up  the  Cove. 
It  had  chanced  that  a  hen,  with  the  preposterous 
hopefulness  of  the  species,  had  gone  to  "  setting  " 
in  the  orchard  upon  an  unremunerative  assemblage 
of  fallen  apples,  in  default  of  more  appropriate 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  233 

material ;  for,  in  ignorance  of  the  fowl's  intention, 
Adelicia  had  fried  the  last  eggs  for  breakfast.  Her 
momentary  dismay  was  dispelled  by  the  recollection 
that  Mrs.  Larrabee  had  promised  her  a  "  settin'  of 
special  an  percise  tur-r-key  aigs,"  and,  equipping 
Julia  with  a  basket,  she  sent  her  forth  to  claim  this 
pledge. 

But  in  lieu  of  the  hospitable  welcome  and  the  eager 
fulfillment  of  the  promise,  the  reminder  of  which 
Mrs.  Larrabee  would  have  regarded  in  the  light  of 
a  courtesy  and  a  favor,  Julia  encountered  at  the 
door  of  the  queer  little  house  Henrietta  Timson, 
her  snuffbrush,  her  small  unlighted  eyes,  her  nar 
row  discontented  face,  and  her  little  brief  authority 
oppressively  in  evidence. 

"  Waal,  I  do  declar',''  she  said,  regarding  Julia 
sourly,  when  the  errand  was  made  known.  "  I 
dunno  what  Sist'  Lar'bee  means,"  —  for  Mrs.  Tim- 
son  was  unfailing  in  the  appellation  of  church- 
membership,  and  enjoyed  no  closer  relation  to  Mrs. 
Larrabee.  "  She  done  gone  off  a-pleasurin'  an' 
a-jauntin',  an'  lef  me  hyar  with  this  whole  house 
ful  ter  'tend  ter,  an'  ter  work  fur,  an'  ter  feed,  an' 
ter  mend,  an'  the  neighbors  ter  pervide  with  aigs 
—  an'  tur-r-key  aigs  at  that !  " 

Julia  Tems's  experience  of  life  had  been  crude 
and  scanty  and  monotonous.  She  had  lived  the 
successive  uneventful  years  since  her  infancy  at  the 
little  cabin  down  in  the  Cove  in  the  humble  domes 
tic  routine,  without  education  of  any  sort,  except 
perchance  such  as  might  be  gleaned  from  the  ser- 


234  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

mon  of  a  stray  circuit  rider;  without  the  oppor 
tunity  of  observation ;  with  the  simplest,  most 
untutored,  most  limited  association.  It  was  to  be 
doubted  if  she  knew  a  score  of  people  in  the  world. 
But  this  was  her  first  encounter  with  discourtesy. 

She  flushed  scarlet  under  the  shade  of  her  brown 
sunbonnet,  not  with  anger,  but  with  shame :  she 
was  ashamed  for  Mrs.  Timson.  She  hardly  felt  the 
affront  to  herself  at  first ;  the  flout  at  the  proprie 
ties  in  the  abstract  nullified  for  the  moment  all  per 
sonal  consideration.  She  was  not  conscious  of  a 
retrograde  movement,  for  her  instinct  was  to  termi 
nate  the  interview.  She  found  herself  murmuring, 
"It's  jes'  ez  well,  —  jes'  ez  well,"  in  an  apologetic 
cadence  which  would  have  befitted  Mrs.  Timson's 
voice,  and  moving  backward  continuously,  in  her 
eager  haste  to  be  gone.  Rather  than  prolong  the 
ordeal  for  a  moment  she  could  with  philosophy 
have  beheld  every  hen  that  had  ever  owned  the 
Terns  sway  in  the  grotesque  catastrophe  of  patiently 
seeking  to  hatch  apples. 

But  Henrietta  Timson  had  hardly  anticipated 
routing  the  invader  so  promptly.  Noting  Julia's 
eagerness  to  be  gone,  she  perversely  thwarted  it  by 
stepping  briskly  down  out  of  the  door,  remember 
ing  to  put  her  hand  to  her  side,  with  a  suffering 
look  and  an  affected  limp. 

"  I  'lowed  ez  I  hed  lied  tribulation,  but  I  never 
seen  none  sech  ez  now.  Sist'  Lar'bee  gone,  —  tuck 
one  o'  my  chil'n  with  her !  "  She  shook  her  head 
with  a  dolorous  accusation  that  might  have  become 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  235 

her  if  "  Sist'  Lar'bee  "  had  been  a  kidnapper,  and 
if  the  hero  of  the  rickets  had  gone  for  aught  but  to 
insure  being  properly  fed  and  provided  for.  "  Jas 
per  Lar'bee  's  disappeared ;  an'  old  man  Haight  I 
do  b'lieve  hev  gone  deranged,  —  sets  an'  cusses  the 
Lost  Time  mine  all  day ;  an'  Jerushy's  husband  's 
drunk,  —  'pears  like  a  rat-hole,  ye  can't  fill  him  up ; 
an'  —  hev  ye  seen  Jasper  Lar'bee  down  yer  ways  ?  " 

"Not  fur  a  long  time,"  faltered  Julia,  still  re 
treating  a  few  steps  at  intervals  down  the  rocky, 
ledgy  dooryard. 

"  Waal,  I  '11  tell  him  ez  ye  war  hyar,  an'  'lowed 
it  'peared  like  a  long  time  sence  ye  seen  him,"  said 
Mrs.  Timson  perversely,  with  the  air  of  taking  a 
message.  "An"' — her  small  eyes  narrowed  — 
"ef  I  find  enny  tur-r-key  aigs,  I  '11  let  ye  know." 

She  looked  with  a  sour  smile  after  the  girl's  light 
figure,  for  Julia  was  now  fairly  routed. 

"I'll  let  ye  know,  too,"  she  muttered,  "ez  we 
ain't  got  none  o'  Mis'  Lar' bee's  slack-twisted  ways 
hyar  now,  —  givin'  away  a  settin'  of  tur-r-key  aigs, 
I  say !  Ef  I  find  enny  tur-r-key  aigs,  I  '11  send  'em 
down  ter  the  store  ter  trade.  I  be  mos'  out  o'  snuff 
now." 

Then  she  meditated  swiftly  upon  her  theory  that 
Mrs.  Larrabee  had  reasons  of  her  own  for  all  her 
good  works;  that  they  were  subtle  investments, 
as  it  were,  sure  of  a  return  in  better  kind,  and 
quadrupled  in  value.  She  could  evolve  no  view 
in  which  the  promised  "  settin'  of  tur-r-key  aigs " 
could  figure  as  assets  save  for  a  general  conciliatory 


236  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

purpose ;  and  then  she  remembered  that  Cap'n 
Lucy  was  a  widower.  A  sneering  smile  stole  over 
her  face,  arrested  suddenly  by  a  grave  afterthought ; 
if  for  this  reason  the  family  were  worth  conciliating 
for  Mrs.  Larrabee's  sake,  surely  more  for  her  own. 
"  Lord  knows,  I  need  a  house,  an'  home,  an'  land, 
an'  horse  critters,  an'  cows,  an'  sheep,  an'  hawgs  — 
he  hev  jes'  two  childern,  an'  them  growed,  an'  that 
niece  gal  could  be  turned  out "  (she  hastily  went 
over  the  list  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  earthly  gear,  omit 
ting  only  that  important  possession,  himself)  —  "a 
sight  more  'n  Mis'  Lar'bee  do,  ennyhows." 

With  a  sudden  change  of  heart,  she  ran  to  the 
road,  holding  her  hand  to  the  level  of  her  eyes  to 
shade  them  from  the  glare  of  the  sun ;  but  look 
as  she  might,  there  was  not  a  flitting  vestige  to 
be  seen  of  the  dark  brickdust  red,  the  color  of  the 
dress  which  Julia  wore.  She  called  again  and 
again  without  response.  She  thought  the  girl 
must  surely  have  heard ;  then  she  reassured  herself 
by  the  reflection  that  the  wind  was  blowing  a  gale, 
and  doubtless  the  sound  of  her  voice  went  far 
afield. 

Its  shrill  pipe  might  have  been  easily  enough 
distinguishable  to  ears  that  would  heed,  although 
the  surges  of  the  wind  beat  loud  on  every  rock  and 
slope.  Julia  took  angry  note  as  she  went  swiftly 
on  and  on,  her  skirts  flying,  her  bonnet  blown 
back,  her  heart  hot  with  wrath  against  Mrs.  Tim- 
son,  against  herself,  against  Adelicia  who  had  sent 
her  on  so  ill  starred  an  errand.  Her  eyes  and  her 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  237 

gesture  were  singularly  like  Cap'n  Lucy's,  as, 
threading  the  narrow  path  above  the  precipice,  she 
paused  and  flung  the  empty  basket  into  the  wil 
derness  below,  and  then  walked  on  less  swiftly, 
her  tense  nerves  relaxed  by  this  ebullition  of  rage. 
Like  Cap'n  Lucy,  too,  she  felt  the  better  for  it, 
albeit  she  realized  as  he  never  would  have  done 
that  the  basket  would  be  sorely  missed  at  home. 
With  the  riddance  she  somehow  discharged  her 
mind  of  the  thought  of  the  Larrabee  threshold,  of 
her  inhospitable  reception  there,  of  the  whole  igno 
ble  episode.  She  looked  out  with  a  sort  of  enjoy 
ment  at  the  muster  of  the  clouds,  the  gathering  of 
rank  after  rank ;  ever  and  again  her  un  affrighted 
eyes  followed  the  swift  yellow  lightnings  darting 
through  the  gray  masses,  and  she  seemed  to  be 
just  opposite  them  as  she  stood  on  the  verge  of 
the  precipice  on  the  mountain  side.  Lower  down 
on  the  wooded  slope  across  the  narrow  valley,  she 
could  see  the  track  of  the  wind,  which  never  touched 
those  silent,  vaporous  congregations,  motionless,  or 
coming  with  contrary  currents  from  opposite  di 
rections.  The  trees  below  bent  and  sprang  back 
into  place,  and  she  could  hear  the  sibilant  shouting 
of  the  leaves.  It  was  like  a  myriad  of  shrill  tiny 
voices,  but  they  combined  into  a  massive  chorus. 
The  growths  hard  by  were  adding  a  refrain ;  the 
wind  was  winning  new  territory  as  it  came  up  the 
mountain.  She  could  see  far  away  a  cloud  torn 
into  fringes,  and  presently  the  rain  was  falling.  It 
was  coming  nearer  and  nearer ;  she  would  meet  it 


238  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

long  before  she  could  reach  home.  She  quickened 
her  steps  at  the  thought.  Sometimes  the  growths 
intervened  on  both  sides  of  the  path,  and  shut  out 
the  observation  of  the  coming  storm.  Whenever 
she  emerged,  she  noted  the  darkening  aspect.  More 
than  once  the  thunder  shook  the  very  mountains. 
Suddenly,  a  searching,  terrible  illumination,  the 
rising  of  the  tumultuous  wind,  a  frightful  succession 
of  peals,  brought  her  to  a  pause.  She  hardly  dared 
to  face  a  storm  like  this,  shelterless,  and  the  store 
at  the  Lost  Time  mine  was  close  at  hand.  Never 
theless  she  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Cap'n  Lucy's 
well-worn  jest  as  to  the  " perf essional  widower" 
was  hardly  so  funny  to  her  as  to  him.  She  stood, 
disconcerted,  conscious,  averse,  in  the  teeth  of  the 
storm,  her  dress  fluttering,  her  bonnet  tossed  back 
from  her  shining  coiled  hair,  her  eyes  bright  and 
wide  and  wistful,  and  the  breath  almost  blown  back 
from  her  lips.  Then  she  noted  suddenly  the  portal 
of  the  Lost  Time  mine.  She  did  not  pause  to 
reflect ;  to  dread  the  long,  darkening,  solitary  after 
noon  in  its  dim  recesses ;  to  remember  the  terrors 
of  its  traditions,  and  what  ghastly  presence  she 
might  meet,  and  what  sepulchral  voices  she  might 
hear,  in  the  awful  isolations  of  the  coming  storm, 
when  all  the  laws  that  govern  the  outside  world 
seemed  set  at  naught ;  for  if  ever  the  supernatural 
should  break  bounds,  it  might  be  at  a  place  like 
this.  She  ran  against  the  wind  as  swiftly  as  she 
might;  skirted  the  water  on  the  stones  in  the 
channel  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  now  more  deeply 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  239 

submerged  than  their  wont,  for  the  stream  was 
rising  visibly,  its  underground  tributaries  already 
fed  by  the  rains  falling  elsewhere ;  felt  with  a  shiver 
the  chill  of  the  place,  as  the  high,  grim,  rough-hewn 
rocks  towered  above  her  head ;  climbed  up  on  the 
inner  ledges  ;  and  as  the  first  floodlike  outbreak  of 
the  torrents  came  down  with  a  crash  of  thunder, 
and  a  glare  of  lightning,  and  a  wild  shrieking  of 
swirling  winds,  she  sat  down,  high  and  dry,  and 
drew  a  breath  of  relief. 

The  next  instant  her  heart  gave  a  great  plunge, 
and  then  seemed  to  stand  still.  She  was  not  alone. 
A  man  in  a  further  recess  appeared  suddenly,  ap 
proaching  cautiously.  He  evidently  had  not  seen 
her.  Her  entrance  into  the  place  had  preceded  his 
appearance  only  by  a  few  seconds.  He  was  watch 
ing  the  rain  with  intense  interest.  She  would  have 
said  that  he  had  been  apprised  of  it  by  the  rise 
of  the  water  within.  He  bestowed  an  eager,  care 
ful,  calculating  scrutiny  upon  the  stream  below 
the  high  shadowy  point  where  he  stood ;  then  he 
looked  toward  the  portal  where  the  descending 
sheets  of  rain  cut  off  all  glimpse  of  the  world 
without.  He  was  turning  away,  with  the  furtive, 
skulking,  cautious  air  that  had  characterized  his  ap 
proach,  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  her.  He  dropped 
out  of  sight  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

She  sat  there,  silent,  trembling,  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  spot  where  he  had  disappeared,  her  heart 
beating  wildly.  She  heard  the  flow  of  the  stream 
below,  its  volume  and  momentum  continually  in- 


240  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

creasing,  and  the  foaming  turmoil  where  the  cur 
rents  met  the  dash  of  the  rain  at  the  outlet  of  the 
mine  ;  now  and  again  she  was  conscious  that  light 
ning  flashed  through  the  gray  and  white  descend 
ing  torrents  without,  and  lit  up  this  dreary  sub 
terranean  recess  with  its  uncanny  glare  for  a  space, 
till  distance  annulled  its  power,  and  she  heard  the 
thunder  roar.  But  she  did  not  withdraw  her  eyes, 
and  she  wondered  if  he  had  known  her  in  that 
short  moment  as  she  had  recognized  him.  For  it 
was  Jack  Espey. 

It  seemed  so  long  while  she  sat  there,  waiting  for 
some  sign,  or  token,  or  further  intimation,  that  she 
might  have  thought  the  apparition  a  mere  illusion, 
had  she  ever  heard  enough  of  the  tricks  of  the 
imagination  to  learn  to  doubt  her  senses.  She  was 
trembling  still,  although  her  voice  was  calm  enough 
as  at  last  she  called  his  name. 

"  Jack  Espey  !  "  the  echoes  cried  out,  as  promptly 
as  if  it  were  a  familiar  sound  and  long  ago  conned. 
They  fell  to  silence  gradually.  She  did  not  call 
again,  but,  with  her  slow  and  composed  manner, 
she  waited  for  him  to  answer. 

When  he  finally  approached,  apparently  ascend 
ing  an  incline  from  depths  below,  he  met  her  intent 
gaze  fixed  upon  him  ;  but  she  seemed  to  him  as 
impassive  and  as  unmoved  of  aspect  as  if  this  were 
a  daily  occurrence  in  her  life. 

"  I  war  in  hopes  ye  did  n't  know  me,  Julia,"  he 
said,  dully  sad,  as  he  came  up  near  her. 

He  stood  leaning  his  elbow  on  one  of  the  shelves 


.   HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  241 

of  rock,  looking  up  at  her,  mechanically  shielding 
himself  behind  the  jagged  ledges  from  observation 
without,  although  it  might  seem  naught  could 
stand  in  the  storm  that  raged  beyond. 

His  plight  was  forlorn.  His  clothes  were  worn 
and  torn,  and  miry  with  clay ;  it  adhered  in  flakes 
and  smears  to  his  long  boots,  incongruously  spurred. 
His  face  was  lined  and  white.  His  hat  was  pushed 
far  back  on  his  black  hair,  as  of  yore,  and  his  long- 
lashed  grayish-blue  eyes  had  an  appealing  look 
which  she  had  not  seen  before. 

"  What  fur  ye  wished  I  would  n't  know  ye  ?  " 

He  looked  hard  at  her.  "  'Kase  it 's  danger- 
some.  I  'm  a  man  hunted  fur  my  life,  I  reckon. 
It 's  dangersome  fur  me,  an'  fur  ye  too,  ter  know 
I  be  hyar." 

"  It 's  jes'  ez  well  I  ain't  one  of  the  skeery  kind, 
then,"  said  Julia  hardily.  "I  be  powerful  glad 
I  seen  ye  hyar." 

She  seemed  curiously  unfamiliar  to  him  in  some 
sort.  So  alert  had  his  faculties  become  in  the  sus 
pense  of  jeopardy  that  this  slight  point  perturbed 
him,  until  he  bethought  himself  that  he  had  hith 
erto  heard  her  speak  so  seldom,  and  had  observed 
her  so  little,  that  the  very  inflections  of  her  voice 
were  strange.  It  was  of  a  different  timbre  from 
Adelicia's.  It  did  not  vibrate.  It  had  a  conclu 
sive,  flutelike  quality,  without  a  trailing  sequence 
of  resonance. 

"  Waal,  I  'lowed  ez  mos'  ennybody  mought  be 
sorry  ter  see  me  in  sech  a  fix  as  this,"  he  said  dol 
orously. 


242  HIS    VANISHED   STAX. 

The  deliberate,  impassive  Julia  was  almost  in 
haste  to  avert  this  apparent  misconstruction.  "  Oh, 
I  war  glad  ter  view  ye,  'kase  a  heap  o'  folks  'lowed 
ye  couldn't  hev  got  away  'thout  yer  horse,  him 
bein'  kilt,  an'  ez  ye  war  a-lyin'  in  the  laurel  some- 
whar,  dead,  yit." 

She  turned  her  head,  and  looked  steadily  at  him. 
Her  deep,  dark,  translucent  eyes  were  full  of  shoal 
ing  lights  of  variant  blue,  like  the  heart  of  some 
great  sapphire.  The  long,  curling  lashes  flung  a 
fibrous  shadow  on  her  cheek ;  its  texture,  as  the 
light  fell  upon  it,  was  so  fine,  so  soft,  its  tints  so 
fair,  its  curve  so  delicate.  Her  lips,  chiseled  like 
some  triumph  of  ideal  beauty,  but  that  no  sculp 
ture  could  express  their  mobile  sweetness,  parted 
suddenly  in  her  rare  and  brilliant  smile. 

Many  a  man,  under  its  glamours,  might  have 
taken  heart  of  grace  to  be  glad  that  he  was  alive ; 
but  Espey's  face  hardened. 

"  'T  would  be  jes'  ez  well,  jes'  ez  well,  lying 
dead  in  the  laur'l,"  he  said  bitterly.  Then,  with 
an  afterthought,  "Let  them  folks  stay  'feared. 
They  won't  spile  thar  health  quakin'  an'  shudderin' 
'bout  me,"  he  added  cynically.  As  he  marked  her 
expression  change,  her  smile  vanish,  he  realized 
the  necessity  to  please,  to  propitiate.  He  knew 
her  so  slightly ;  his  temper  must  not  be  too  savage 
and  surly  with  so  complete  a  stranger,  and  perhaps 
earn  her  antagonism,  especially  since  he  and  his 
refuge  were  at  her  mercy. 

"  Course,"  he  went  on,  with  a  clumsy  effort  at 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  243 

amends,  "  I  don't  mean  Ad'licia.     Ye  knowed  we- 
uns  war  keepin'  comp'ny  ?." 
She  nodded  gravely. 

"  I  know  Ad'licia  hev  quaked  an'  shuddered  'bout 
me  a  heap  mo'  'n  I  be  wuth,"  he  added. 

Was  the  day  darker  outside,  or  how  was  quenched 
that  subtle  brightness  of  aspect  that  had  made  the 
girl's  face  radiant  ?  It  was  beautiful  still,  that  stat 
uesque  contour,  but  as  chill  and  unresponsive  as  if 
indeed  its  every  line  had  been  wrought  with  a  chisel. 
The  smooth  hair,  with  its  sheen  of  silken  fineness, 
caught  the  light  on  its  coiled  and  plaited  chestnut- 
tinted  strands.  One  hand  rested  on  her  brown  sun- 
bonnet,  laid  on  the  ledge  of  the  gray  rock,  and  she 
leaned  her  weight  upon  it.  Her  head  and  her  fair 
complexion  —  so  fair  that  it  transmitted  to  the  sur 
face  an  outline  of  the  blue  veins  in  her  temple  and 
throat,  and  even  her  eyelids  —  and  the  roseate  fluc 
tuations  in  her  cheek  were  very  distinct  against  the 
yellow  clay  of  the  bank  of  earth  behind  her.  Her 
little  rough  low-quarter  shoes  and  the  brown  stock 
ings  showed  a  trifle  beneath  the  skirt  of  the  brick- 
dust-colored  homespun  dress  she  wore,  as  they  were 
placed  on  a  boulder  that  stood  out  of  the  tawny 
rushing  stream  below. 

He  noted  the  change.  He  could  not  account  for 
it  other  than  as  a  vicarious  resentment. 

"  I  ain't  faultin'  Ad'licia,"  he  said,  more  emphat 
ically.  "  She  war  tormented  powerful  'bout  me, 
war  n't  she?" 

"  A-fust,"  said  Julia  veraciously.     Her  voice  was 


244  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

as  inexpressive  as  her  eyes.     "  But  Ad'licia  is  one 
ez  always  hopes  fur  the  best." 

He  drew  back  with  a  sudden  recoil.  "  Waal, 
now,  by  the  Lord !  "  he  cried  furiously,  "  she 's 
welcome  ter  her  hope !  Settin'  thar  in  the  house, 
warm,  an'  dry,  an'  fed,  an'  clean," —  he  looked  down 
with  a  sort  of  repulsion  upon  his  miry  garments,  — 
"  a-hopin'  fur  the  bes',  an'  makin'  herself  mighty 
comfort'ble  an'  contented,  an'  me  hyar,  freezin'  in 
this  cold  hole,  an'  mighty  nigh  starvin',  in  rags  an' 
mis'ry,  an'  sick,  an'  sorry,  an'  lonesome  enough  ter 
die,  an'  shet  out  o'  the  light !  My  God,  ef  I  war  n't 
'feared  o'  my  life,  I  'd  let  the  off  cer  take  me !  The 
State  hain't  got  no  sech  term  o'  imprisonment  ez 
this !  " 

Julia  was  leaning  forward,  each  line  of  her  im 
passive  face  replete  with  meaning,  reflecting  his 
every  sentiment,  but  with  the  complement  of  sym 
pathy  and  acquiescence  and  responsive  anger  in  his 
anger. 

He  turned  suddenly,  lifting  his  arm  with  a  scorn 
ful  gesture  toward  the  low  vault  with  its  dank, 
earthy  odor,  the  ledges  of  barren,  inhospitable  rock, 
the  cold  stream  rushing  forth  from  the  darkness 
'within,  seen  in  an  appalling  blackness  adown  the 
tunnel,  against  which  his  white-lined  face  looked 
whiter,  his  form  taller  in  his  closely  belted  garb 
and  with  his  long  boots  drawn  up  to  the  knees.  He 
waved  his  arm  as  if  to  include  it  all.  "  An'  Ad'li 
cia,  —  she  hopes  for  the  bes'." 

He  broke  out  into  a  harsh  laugh,  which  the  echoes 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  245 

repeated  so  promptly,  and  with  apparently  so  ma 
lignant  an  intent,  that  he  checked  it  hastily,  and  the 
sound  died  on  his  colorless  lips  ;  but  far  down  the 
black  tunnel  something  uncanny  seemed  to  fall  to 
laughing  suddenly,  and  as  suddenly  to  break  off ; 
and  again  a  further  voice  still  was  lifted  in  weird 
mirth,  and  the  laughter  failed  midway. 

He  waited  for  silence,  and  then  he  leaned  against 
a  higher  ledge  near  which  she  was  sitting,  and, 
resting  his  elbow  on  it,  looked  at  her  once  more, 
wondering  how  he  might  best  revert  to  his  object  of 
propitiation.  He  was  remembering  that  Adelicia 
had  told  him  how  prone  was  Julia  to  notice  slights, 
and  how  quick  to  take  offense.  He  felt  hardly 
equal  to  the  effort  of  repairing  the  damage  of  his 
outbreak  against  her  relative,  so  spent  was  his 
scanty  strength  by  the  violence  of  his  anger  and  his 
agitation.  He  could  only  look  at  her  silently,  more 
forlorn,  more  pallid,  more  appealing,  than  before. 

"  I  ought  n't  ter  think  hard  o'  Ad'licia,"  he  said 
at  last.  "  Nobody  else  would,  I  know.  Would 
they?"  he  added. 

For,  with  Julia's  silent  habit,  conversation  was 
somewhat  difficult  without  a  direct  appeal.  It  was 
a  direct  appeal.  She  liked  to  remember  that  after 
ward. 

"Waal,"  she  said,  slowly  and  judicially,  as  if 
weighing  matters  submitted  for  arbitrament,  "  I  'low 
Ad'licia  treated  ye  right  mean,  fust  an'  las'." 

"  Why  ?  "  he  rejoined,  in  genuine  interest,  his 
face  resuming  its  normal  expression  before  flight 


246  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

and  hardship  and  darkness  and  loneliness  and  fear 
and  privation  had  so  marked  it. 

"  'Kase,"  she  went  on  in  that  soft,  unfamiliar 
voice  that  the  echoes  seemed  hardly  to  follow,  so 
complete,  so  indivisible,  was  every  flutelike  tone, 
"  she  oughter  married  ye  whenst  ye  axed  her  — 
ef  she  liked  ye." 

A  faint  surprise  was  dawning  in  his  eyes. 

"  Cap'n  Lucy  would  n't  gin  his  cornsent,"  he  said 
succinctly. 

"  I  reckon  he  'lowed  't  war  his  jewty  ter  say  no. 
But  ef  Ad'licia  hed  married  ye  ennyhows,  do  ye 
reckon  dad  would  hev  let  that  leetle  fice  o'  the  law, 
'Dolphus  Eoss,  jail  his  nephew-in-law  'kase  a  man 
he  fought  in  Tanglefoot  Cove  mought  die  ef  he 
did  n't  hev  the  industry  ter  git  well  ?  Naw,  sir : 
ye  'd  hev  hed  dad  an'  Luther  fur  backers,  an'  they 
air  toler'ble  stiff  backers,  fur  enny  man.  Dad 
would  hev  fixed  a  way  out'n  it  fur  ye,  fur  sure, 
count  o'  Ad'licia.  She  war  a  turr'ble  fool  not  ter 
marry  ye,  an'  I  tole  her  so." 

The  surprise,  the  doubt,  and  at  last  the  convic 
tion  successively  expressed  in  Espey's  face  might 
have  been  easily  discriminated  by  one  skilled  in 
reading  the  human  physiognomy.  But  Julia  pos 
sessed  no  such  craft,  and  when  he  spoke  she  appre 
ciated  no  change  in  his  manner,  albeit  it  was  not 
guarded ;  for  he  did  not  conceive  it  necessary  to 
closely  screen  the  discovery  of  a  secret  of  which 
he  perceived  that  Julia  was  herself  unconscious. 

"  Julia,"  he  said  appealingly,  "  ye  see  how  I  be 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  247 

hunted  an'  harried,  an'  nobody  keers  fur  me.  Jes' 
let  the  folks  shudder  an'  quake  fur  a  while  longer 
'thout  knowin'  what 's  kem  o'  me.  Don't  tell  no 
body  ez  ye  hev  seen  me  hyar." 

She  was  gazing  out  at  the  steely  lines  of  the  rain 
curtain,  so  dense  as  to  be  like  a  veritable  fabric,  as 
it  swayed  in  the  wind  at  the  rugged  mouth  of  the 
mine,  and  its  foaming  white  fringes  that  seemed  to 
trail  upon  the  brown  water  where  the  continuous 
downfall  splashed  into  its  currents.  The  peculiarly 
clear,  colorless  light  of  a  gray  day,  which,  in  its 
adequacy  for  all  the  purposes  of  mere  vision,  would 
seem  to  point  the  munificence  and  splendid  lavish- 
ness  of  the  sun's  bestowals  in  the  interests  of  beauty 
and  growths  and  the  gladdening  of  the  heart  of 
man,  was  upon  her  face,  which  responded  with  a 
sort  of  subdued  glister  like  marble.  Her  eyes  and 
the  shadowy  long  black  lashes  were  meditatively 
downcast.  She  was  evidently  reviewing  the  course 
of  action  which  she  had  just  sketched  for  him,  for 
Adelicia,  for  Cap'n  Lucy.  He  did  not  hold  her 
undivided  attention,  and  he  realized  that  it  was 
only  a  mechanical  assent  as  she  nodded,  her  face 
still  reflective,  absorbed. 

"Not  even  Cap'n  Lucy,"  he  urged  eagerly. 
"  Not  Jasper  Lar'bee  "  He  paused  suddenly. 

The  word  seemed  to  arrest,  to  enchain,  her  elu 
sive  attention.  The  delicate  roseate  tints  of  her 
fair  complexion  deepened  from  throat  to  brow ; 
her  cheek  was  vividly  red.  She  was  remembering 
the  Larrabee  threshold,  the  greeting  she  had  en- 


248  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

countered  there,  the  grotesque  indignity  of  Henri 
etta  Timson's  affronts.  But  hers  was  a  reticent 
habit,  and  she  had  a  reserved  nature.  She  only 
said,  conclusively,  slowly,  "  Ye  may  be  sure  I  won't 
tell  Jasper  Lar'bee." 

Somehow  Espey  felt  a  sense  of  loss ;  and  he  had 
so  little  to  lose,  poor  fellow,  that  albeit  her  affec 
tion  was  unsought,  uncared  for,  unsuspected  till  a 
moment  ago,  the  doubt  of  it  afflicted  him  as  if 
his  heart  were  cruelly  rifled.  That  flush  at  Larra- 
bee's  name  !  To  him  it  was  conclusive.  He  had 
no  other  indication  by  which  to  judge.  He  had 
mistaken  her  sympathy,  her  idle  talk ;  she  was 
wont  to  talk  so  seldom  that  it  was  not  surprising 
that  he  hardly  knew  how  to  take  her  words ;  he 
knew  so  little  of  her  and  her  mental  processes. 
She  cared  for  Larrabee,  not  for  him.  Nobody 
cared  for  him.  And  Adelicia  was  hoping  for  the 
best. 

"  This  be  a  mighty  pore  shelter  an'  home  an' 
hope,"  he  said,  grimly  looking  about  him.  "I 
hed  prayed  I  mought  crope  inter  a  hole  ter  hide  or 
die,  like  a  hunted  fox  or  bar  or  painter  be  'lowed 
ter  do  sometimes.  That  did  n't  'pear  ter  me  much 
fur  a  man  ter  ax  of  the  Lord." 

He  stood  off  from  the  rock  for  an  instant,  his 
big  white  wool  hat  in  one  hand,  the  other  in  his 
leather  belt  where  that  formidable  array  of  weap 
ons  still  gleamed.  His  head  was  thrown  back 
from  the  loose  collar  of  his  blue-checked  shirt ;  his 
straight  hair  was  tossed  from  his  brow;  his  gray 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  249 

eyes,  scornfully  bitter,  surveyed  the  dripping  walls, 
—  so  dark  that  in  the  recesses  here  and  there 
clusters  of  bats  hung  head  downward,  dimly  de 
scried,  awaiting  the  night,  —  the  rugged  obtrusion 
of  rock  through  the  clay,  the  chill,  chill  flowing  of 
the  brown  water  in  the  channel  below,  as  ceaseless, 
as  cold,  as  heedless,  as  relentless,  as  in  the  days 
of  yore  when  it  broke  its  allotted  bounds,  rose 
into  alien  hewn-out  caverns,  and  flooded  the  mine, 
wrecking  the  humble  industry  of  man,  wresting 
away  with  its  grasping  currents  two  struggling  hu 
man  lives,  and  carrying  not  even  a  gruesome  mem 
ory  or  token  of  its  deeds  upon  its  sleek  waves  out 
into  the  sunshine,  and  the  free  air,  and  the  genial 
warmth  of  the  upper  world. 

"  'T  ain't  much  I  hev  axed,  —  this  hole  ter 
starve  an'  die  in,  —  but  mebbe  it 's  too  much !  " 
Then,  turning,  with  an  eye  alight,  and  a  furious 
flush  that  made  him  look  all  at  once  well  and 
strong  and  alert  and  reckless  again,  "  But  tell  whar 
1  be  hid  out  —  tell  —  tell  who  ye  want !  Tell 
ennybody  —  everybody !  Cap'n  Lucy !  the  sher'ff ! 
Taft !  Jasper  Lar'bee  !  " 

And  what  miracle  was  this !  The  silent,  impas 
sive,  reserved,  reticent  Julia  fixed  her  eyes  upon 
him  for  a  moment,  amazed,  troubled,  and  then,  as 
she  suddenly  comprehended,  full  of  a  keen  but 
tender  reproach.  And  until  that  moment  he  had 
not  known  how  beautiful  those  much-vaunted  eyes 
could  be.  The  next  they  were  full  of  tears,  and 
Julia,  leaning  back  against  the  wall  behind  her, 
had  burst  into  sobs. 


250  HIS    VANISHED  STAR, 

uTell!  Why,  Jack  Espey,  how  kin  ye  think  I 
could  be  made  to  tell  whar  ye  be  hid  out  ?  "  She 
turned  her  head  to  look  at  him  again  with  hurt  and 
indignant  amazement.  "  I  'd  die  first !  Powder 
an'  lead  "  —  she  hesitated  for  hyperbole  that  might 
express  this  impossibility  —  "  all  the  powder  and 
lead  the  men  shot  away  in  the  war  times  could  n't 
git  a  word  from  me  o'  what  I  hev  fund  out  this 
evenin' ! " 

"  I  know  it !  "  he  protested,  coming  up  close  to 
her,  as  she  sat  on  the  ledge.  "  I  ought  n't  ter  hev 
said  that,  but  ye  see,  Julia,  I  feel  so  s'picious, 
sometimes ;  I  be  so  hunted  an'  harried,  an'  nobody 
keers  fur  me  or  whar  I  be  —  'ceptin'  the  sher'ff." 
He  lifted  his  eyebrows,  with  a  fleering  laugh  at  his 
own  forlorn  estate. 

"  I  keer,"  said  Julia  stoutly.  "  I  won't  tell 
nobody  whar  ye  be  hid  out,  —  not  even  dad,  nor 
Luther,  nor  nobody,  'ceptin'  Ad'licia." 

He  gasped  in  haste  for  utterance.  He  caught  at 
her  hand  as  if  he  were  drowning,  —  as  if  she  might 
be  gone  before  he  could  stay  her  for  a  word. 

"  Not  Ad'licia !  Oh  my  Lord,  no  !  Jes'  leave 
her  a-hopin'  fur  the  bes' ! "  He  had  hardly  real 
ized  how  deeply  he  had  resented  Adelicia's  opti 
mistic  resignation  to  his  fate.  His  sarcastic  laugh 
was  broken  off  halfway  in  his  eager  resumption 
of  his  argument.  "  Ad'licia  mought  feel  obligated 
ter  tell  Cap'n  Lucy,  an'  'bide  by  his  word.  With 
her  a-hopin'  fur  the  bes',  an'  Cap'n  Lucy's  foolin' 
long  o'  his  jewty  ter  his  orphin  niece,  I  '11  git  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  251 

sher'ff's  bracelets  locked  round  my  wrists  ;  an'  the 
jail  ain't  ez  sightly  a  place  ez  this  beautisome  spot. 
I  be  a  mail  fur  myself,  an'  I  can't  ondertake  ter 
cut  out  all  my  cloth  with  Cap'n  Lucy's  scissors. 
Ad'licia  's  contented.  Leff  her  be  !  She  '11  hope 
fur  the  bes'  with  a  twenty  horse  power." 

He  did  not  remember  Mrs.  Larrabee's  astute  re 
mark  in  the  advice  she  had  given  him  to  the  effect 
that  "  perlitin'  round  the  t'other  gal  would  n't  go 
so  hard  with  him,"  if  she  were  really  a  "  gyardin 
lily  "  for  beauty.  He  only  felt  vaguely  that  he 
had  not  heretofore  appreciated  the  radiance  of  the 
face  that  Julia  bent  upon  him  ;  he  did  not  under 
stand  that  it  was  the  moment,  the  unrealized 
thought,  which  so  embellished  it,  as  she  said  cogi- 
tatingly,  "Naw,  't  won't  do  ter  tell  Ad'licia.  I 
won't  tell  her." 

"  See  ter  it  that  ye  don't,"  he  sternly  urged  her. 
And  once  more  he  was  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
he  really  had  not  before  known  how  singularly 
beautiful  she  was. 

"  Ye  see,  Julia,"  he  said,  lowering  his  voice  con 
fidentially,  "  I  can't  git  away,  'kase  I  got  no  horse  ; 
an'  ef  I  hed  one,  I  hev  got  no  money,  an'  I  'd  jes' 
be  tuk  somewhar,  now  that  the  folks  hev  got  sot 
onto  the  trail  of  me.  So  I  'lowed  I  'd  hide  hyar- 
about  till  I  git  news  from  Tanglefoot  ez  that  man 
hev  got  better.  Ye  see  I  be  hopin'  fur  the  bes', 
too,"  he  added,  with  a  pathetic  smile.  "  It 's  all  I 
kin  do." 

"  How  do  ye  git  suthin'  ter  eat  ?  "  she  asked  sud 
denly. 


252  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

Espey  looked  embarrassed.  "  Oh,  I  makes 
out,"  he  said  evasively.  "  I  gits  out  at  night 
sometimes." 

She  assumed  that  he  hunted  or  trapped  at  night 
for  provisions.  He  noted  that  she  did  not  argue 
nor  contend,  as  Adelicia  was  wont  to  do.  She 
accepted  his  arrangements  as  intrinsically  the  best. 

"  I  could  fetch  ye  suthin'  wunst  in  a  while,"  she 
suggested. 

He  looked  aghast  at  the  idea. 

"  Don't  ye  do  that,  Julia,"  he  said  warningly. 
"  It  mought  git  ye  or  Cap'n  Lucy  liable  ter  the 
law.  Don't  ye  do  it.  I  '11  make  out  somehows." 
Then  seeing  her  reluctance,  "  Ef  I  need  ennything, 
or  want  ter  git  communication  with  folks  outside, 
I  '11  let  ye  know.  I  '11  —  I'll  put  this  hyar  pipe 
in  a  nick  in  them  rocks,  jes'  west,  clost  inter  the 
freestone  spring  nigh  yer  dad's  house." 

She  listened,  breathless,  and  beamed  with  de 
light  at  the  feasibility  of  this  plan. 

"  An'  whenever  I  pass  hyar,"  she  said,  with 
wide,  illumined  eyes  and  a  flickering  flush  of  ex 
citement,  —  "  an'  I  '11  kem  frequent,  —  I  '11  drap 
wild  flowers  in  the  road.  An'  ye  will  see  'em,  an' 
know  I  hev  been  by  an'  been  a-studyin'  'bout  you- 
uns.  An'  that  will  be  plumb  comp'ny  fur  ye.  " 

"  'T  will  that !  "  he  cried.  His  eyes  were  soft 
and  bright  and  dewy.  Somehow  it  seemed  to  bind 
him  —  that  chain  of  flowers  —  to  the  fair  world 
without,  which  had  been  slipping  away,  away  for 
ever. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  253 

He  turned,  and  looked  out  toward  the  rocky 
egress  of  the  cave  as  if  he  almost  expected  to  see 
already  a  cardinal  flower  flaming  in  the  sun  on  the 
gray  rock. 

There  was  no  sun.  The  rain  fell,  dense  still,  — 
dense  enough,  doubtless,  to  preclude  all  observation 
from  without;  but  from  among  the  shadows  within 
his  practiced  eyes  descried  through  the  shifting, 
shimmering  veil,  now  white  and  gray  in  shoaling 
effects,  all  blown  aslant  by  the  wind,  a  canvas- 
covered  wagon  lumbering  by,  albeit  for  the  rush 
of  the  stream  and  the  fall  of  the  torrent  she  could 
not  hear  the  slow  creak  of  its  wheels.  His  heart 
was  a-flutter,  although  he  knew  that  the  danger  of 
observation  was  past,  as  the  swaying  white  hood 
had  disappeared. 

"That's  'Renzo  Taft,"  he  remarked.  "He's 
gittin'  back  late  from  the  cross-roads.  I  reckon 
the  storm  cotch  him  an'  kep'  him." 

He  hesitated.  Then,  with  a  sort  of  falter  of 
humiliation,  "  I  reckon  I  'd  better  go  back  ter  my 
hidin'  place,  Julia.  The  rain  's  slackening  so  some 
body  passin'  mought  view  me.  Ye  jes'  set  hyar 
right  quiet  an'  wait  fur  the  rain  ter  hold  up." 

He  turned  away;  then  looked  back  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  Good-by,"  he  said. 

The  girl's  luminous  eyes  dwelt  smilingly  upon 
him. 

"  Good-by,"  she  answered  softly. 

He   took   his  way  along  the   ledges   above   the 


254  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

treacherous  stream  to  that  blacker  recess  where  the 
way  deflected  and  the  light  failed  ;  he  turned  once 
more. 

"I  '11  be  a-watchin'  fur  them  flowers,"  he  said. 

Her  smile  itself  was  like  a  bloom  ;  he,  unaware, 
treasured  the  recollection.  He  seemed  to  reflect  it 
in  some  sort.  He  was  smiling  himself,  as  he  went 
down  into  those  sunless  depths. 

He  could  not  forbear  partly  retracing  his  way 
once,  and  looking  at  her  as  she  sat,  quite  still,  gaz 
ing  out  with  her  eyes  of  summer  and  sunshine  upon 
the  rain,  and  the  dreary,  sad,  tear-stained  aspect  of 
the  world  without,  whence  sounded  the  sobbing  of 
the  troubled  wind. 

When  he  came  yet  another  time,  the  rain  had 
ceased,  and  she  was  gone. 


XIV. 

LOKENZO  TAFT'S  arrival  at  his  home,  that  after 
noon,  might  have  seemed  to  the  casual  observer 
an  event  of  the  simplest  significance.  It  is  true,  a 
country  trader,  on  his  return  from  a  bout  of  barter 
at  that  emporium  the  cross-roads  store,  seldom 
casts  about  him  so  vigilant  an  eye,  or  sustains  so 
controlled  and  weighty  a  manner,  or  wears  a  coun 
tenance  of  such  discernment,  its  alert  sagacity 
hardly  at  variance  with  certain  predatory  sugges 
tions,  —  on  the  contrary,  finding  in  them  its  com 
plement  of  expression.  But  these  points  might 
only  have  argued  ill  for  the  profits  of  the  bargainer 
with  whom  he  had  dealt.  As  the  great  lumbering 
canvas-hooded  wagon  came  to  a  halt  in  the  space 
beneath  the  loft  of  the  log  barn,  under  partial 
shelter,  at  least,  and  he  began  to  unharness  and 
turn  out  the  two  mules,  the  anxious  glances  he  cast 
toward  the  house  might  have  betokened  impatient 
expectation  of  assistance  in  unloading  the  ponderous 
vehicle,  and  carrying  into  the  store  the  cumbrous 
additions  to  its  stock  represented  in  saddles,  cutlery, 
sugar,  bolts  of  calico,  stacks  of  hats,  —  the  integ 
rity  of  all  more  or  less  endangered  by  the  weather. 
But  no  one  emerged  from  the  house,  and  after 
feeding  the  mules  he  turned  hastily,  took  his  way 


256  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

in  great  strides  through  the  rain  across  the  yard, 
which  was  half  submerged  in  puddles  and  running 
water,  and  unlocked  the  door.  As  he  entered,  big, 
burly,  and  dripping  with  rain,  prophetically  at  odds 
with  the  falling  out  of  the  yet  unknown  events,  he 
gazed  about  the  dim  interior  with  a  dissatisfied, 
questioning  eye.  All  was  much  as  usual,  save 
dimmer  and  drearier  for  the  storm  without.  Here 
the  unseen  rain  asserted  its  presence  by  the  fusil 
lade  on  the  roof  and  the  plashing  from  the  eaves. 
The  wind  rushed  furiously  in  recurrent  blasts 
against  the  windowless  walls.  Since  the  denizens 
within  could  not  mark  how  it  bent  the  greatest 
tree,  they  might  thus  judge  of  its  force,  and  quake 
beneath  its  tempestuous  buffets.  Now  and  again 
the  writhen  boughs  of  the  elm  just  outside  beat 
as  in  frantic  appeal  on  the  clapboards  of  the  roof. 
The  chimney  piped  a  tuneless,  fifelike  note,  and 
occasional  drops  fell  a-sputtering  into  the  dull  blaze 
of  the  fire.  Cornelia  Taft  herself  was  dull  and 
spiritless  of  mien,  as  she  sat  on  a  low  stool  on  the 
hearth  knitting  a  blue  yarn  stocking.  The  room, 
lurking  in  a  state  of  semi-obscurity,  seemed  the 
dreariest  possible  expression  of  a  dwelling ;  only  as 
the  fitful  blaze  flared  and  fell  were  distortions  of 
its  simple  furniture  distinguishable,  —  the  table 
with  its  blue  ware,  the  bed  and  its  gaudy  quilt,  the 
spinning-wheel,  and  the  old  warping-bars,  where 
now  merely  skeins  of  cobwebs  were  wont  to  hang 
from  peg  to  peg,  since  Cornelia  Taft's  precocity  did 
not  extend  to  weaving.  A  black  cat  sat  blinking 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  257 

her  yellow  eyes  before  the  fire.  She  had  so  con 
versational  an  aspect  that  it  might  seem  that  Taft 
had  interrupted  some  conference,  —  of  a  dismal 
nature,  doubtless,  for  there  were  traces  of  recent 
tears  on  the  little  girl's  face,  and  a  most  depressed 
expression. 

"  Whar  's  Copley?  Whar  's  yer  uncle  Cop  ?  " 
he  demanded,  looking  hastily  about  the  shadowy 
place. 

She  paused  to  roll  up  her  work  methodically, 
and  thrust  the  knitting-needles  through  the  ball  of 
yarn. 

"  He  ain't  hyar,"  she  said,  lifting  reproachful 
eyes  ;  "  an'  he  ain't  been  hyar  since  ye  been 
gone." 

He  stared  down  at  her  in  silent  surprise. 

"  Ye  jes'  went  off  an'  lef  me  an'  Joe  hyar  by 
ourse'fs,  an'  we  been  mos'  skeered  ter  death,"  she 
added,  with  a  sob. 

A  sudden  apprehension  crossed  Taft's  face. 

"  I  lef  Cop  hyar.  Ain't  he  been  in  ter  git  his 
vittles  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Did  ye  call  him  in  the  store  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Mebbe  he  war  in  the  barn." 

"I  bio  wed  the  hawn  fur  him;  he  ain't  eat  a 
mite  sence  ye  been  gone." 

Taft  turned  hastily  toward  the  door,  his  florid 
face  paling.  Then  he  turned  back.  "  Whar  's 
Joe?" 


258  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"  He  hev  runned  away !  "  cried  Sis,  with  a  burst 
of  sobs.  "  Las'  night  we-uns  hearn  sech  a  cur'ous 
hurrah  —  somewhar  —  I  dunno  —  sech  cur'ous  talk 
an'  hollerin'  'way  down  in  the  groun'  —  an'  —  an' 
—  diggin'  —  an' " 

He  had  paused,  looking  amazed  at  her.  Then 
his  face  changed,  with  a  sort  of  aghast  certainty 
upon  it.  "Jes'  some  boys  diggin'  in  the  Lost 
Time  mine,"  he  urged,  however,  plausibly. 

"  But  —  but " —  she  protested  —  "  Joe,  he  say, 
they  —  they  air  —  dead." 

She  looked  at  him,  hoping  for  some  sufficient 
adult  denial  of  this  terrible  fantasy ;  but  his  face 
betokened  only  its  confirmation,  and  she  fell  to 
shivering  and  sobbing  afresh. 

"  Whenst  it  got  so  turrible  in  the  middle  o' 
the  night,  Joe,  he  looked  out'n  the  winder  upsteers, 
an'  the  moon  hed  riz.  An'  he  clomb  down  by 
the  tree.  He  'lowed  he  would  n't  bide  no  mo'  an' 
listen.  So  he  jes'  skun  the  cat  out'n  the  winder. 
He  war  'feared." 

And  once  more  she  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands  and  wept.  Nevertheless,  between  her  fingers, 
as  the  tears  trickled  down  them,  she  furtively  sur 
veyed  him. 

"  Wunst,"  she  said  tentatively,  "  I  'lowed  't  war 
revenuers.  An'  then  I  wisht  't  war.  I  hed  ruther 
hev  hearn  them  'n  —  'n  —  dead  ones." 

His  countenance  did  not  change  a  muscle. 

She  was  now  alarmed  by  her  own  temerity.  In 
the  long  ordeal  of  solitude  and  fright  she  had  lost 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  259 

control  of  her  small  nerves,  or  she  would  not  have 
overstepped  her  habitual  caution  so  far.  "  Rev- 
enuers  arter  what  ?  "  he  demanded.  His  incidental, 
unconcerned  manner  reassured  her. 

"  Arter  the  4  wild-cat,'  I  reckon,"  she  hazarded. 

He  affected  to  consider  the  suggestion. 

"  Some  boys  mought  be  talkin'  'bout  startin'  a 
still  down  thar  in  the  Lost  Time  mine.  I  '11  roust 
'em  out  mighty  quick,  ef  they  do  !  Ef  thar  's  enny 
whiskey  sold  round  hyar,  I  'm  countin'  on  doin'  it 
out'n  my  store,  sure.  I  got  a  license  ter  sell." 

She  looked  at  him  narrowly,  suspiciously,  hardly 
more  credulous  than  he  himself. 

"  I  won't  hev  my  profits  sp'iled.  Whiskey  's 
the  best  trade  I  got,"  he  added,  as  he  turned 
about.  "  Waal,  I  'lowed  Copley  would  be  in  hyar 
ter  holp  me  tote  the  truck  in ;  but,  howsever,  set  a 
rock  afore  the  door  ter  hold  it  open,  Sis,  whilst  I 
make  a  start,  ennyhow." 

His  show  of  industry  as  he  toiled  across  the 
rainy  yard,  now  with  a  keg,  now  with  a  box,  on  his 
shoulder,  of  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  his  goods, 
his  sedulous  care  in  displaying  them  to  the  best 
advantage  on  the  shelves  to  lure  customers,  might 
have  deceived  a  wiser  head  than  Cornelia  Taft's. 
Her  long-cherished  suspicions  were  gradually  dis 
pelled,  as  she  ran  hither  and  thither,  carrying  the 
lighter  packages  in  her  arms,  eagerly  helping  to 
bestow  them,  making  place  for  them  when  she 
could  do  no  more.  It  was  not  until  she  had  gone 
back  briskly  to  her  task  of  preparing  an  early 


260  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

supper  that  he  ventured  to  descend  from  the  store 
to  the  room  below,  and  take  his  way  along  the  dark 
tunnel  to  the  still  in  the  recess  of  the  mine.  He 
paused  surprised  at  the  disordered  and  careless  dis 
array  about  the  entrance  to  the  tunnel :  some  of  the 
boards  of  the  partition  were  on  the  ground,  others 
aslant,  none  as  they  were  habitually  adjusted.  With 
a  steady  hand  he  rectified  this,  and  went  forward 
forthwith,  his  lantern  swinging  in  his  grasp.  Once 
he  paused  to  listen :  no  voice,  no  stir ;  only  the 
heavy  windless  silence.  As  he  progressed,  the 
faint  tinkling  of  the  running  water  smote  his  ear, 
and  presently  he  had  crossed  it.  No  sound  came 
from  about  the  still ;  there  was  no  suffusion  of  red 
light  on  the  terra-cotta  walls  that  sometimes  glowed 
at  the  terminus  of  the  tunnel  when  the  furnace 
door  stood  open.  He  could  hardly  be  said  to  have 
had  a  premonition.  He  was  prepared  for  disas 
ter  by  the  previous  events ;  but  he  could  scarcely 
realize  its  magnitude,  its  conclusiveness,  when  the 
timid  flare  of  the  lantern  illumined  the  dreary  walls 
of  the  moonshiners'  haunt,  the  dead  cold  furnace, 
the  tubs  of  mash,  —  on  the  margin  of  one  of  which 
a  rat  was  boldly  feeding,  scarcely  pausing  to  look 
around  with  furtive,  sinister  bright  eyes,  —  and 
his  two  lieutenants,  whom  he  had  left  to  guard  Lar- 
rabee,  bound  and  gagged  upon  the  floor. 

The  craft  which  characterized  Lorenzo  Taft  was 
hardly  predicable  of  so  massive  an  organization. 
It  was  an  endowment  of  foxlike  ingenuity,  sinu 
ous,  lithe,  suggestive  of  darting  swiftness  and  of 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  261 

doubled  tracks.  The  expression  of  blunt  dismay 
on  his  big  jowl  dropping  visibly  beneath  his  broad 
yellow  beard,  the  widening  stare  in  his  round  blue 
eyes  as  he  gazed  about  the  dismal  place,  his  heavy, 
lumbering  motion  as  he  carefully  set  the  lantern 
down  upon  the  cold  masonry  of  the  fireless  furnace, 
gave  no  intimation  of  the  speed  with  which  his 
mind  had  canvassed  the  situation,  accepted  the  in 
evitable,  and  fixed  upon  his  future  course.  It  was 
hardly  a  moment  before  he  was  on  one  knee  beside 
the  prostrate  form  of  the  elder  moonshiner,  and 
had  drawn  from  over  his  head  the  grain  sack  that 
had  served  both  to  obscure  his  countenance  and 
more  completely  secure  his  gag.  The  glimmer  of 
the  lantern,  like  a  slow  rill  of  light  trickling  feebly 
through  the  darkness,  illumined  the  expression  of 
eager  appeal  in  the  haggard,  wild  face  and  eyes  of 
Copley.  An  instant  longer  was  too  long  to  wait, 
yet  wait  he  must !  Taft  jerked  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder  at  the  other  prostrate  form,  convulsed 
now  in  a  frenzied  effort  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  new-comer,  whose  footsteps  had  brought  the 
only  hope  of  speedy  deliverence. 

"  Drunk  agin  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

Copley  made  shift  to  nod  his  head  affirmatively. 
Then  again  that  frantic  plea  for  release  illumined 
his  eyes  and  contorted  his  anxious  features. 

Taft,  regardless,  rose,  with  the  swinging  motion 
which  was  characteristic  of  him,  and,  with  the 
lantern  swaying  in  his  hand,  made  his  way  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  furnace,  where  the  young 


262  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

drunkard  lay  —  very  sober  now,  in  good  truth  — 
cramped  in  every  hard-bound  limb,  racked  with 
the  tortures  of  thirst,  and  half  famished.  Taft 
had  partly  unbound  the  ropes  from  about  the  fur 
nace  and  cut  them  in  twain,  thus  dissevering  the 
companions  in  misery  ;  he  swiftly  knotted  those  that 
held  the  elder  moonshiner,  while  the  ends  of  Dan 
Sykes' s  bonds  lay  loose  along  the  floor. 

"  Why,  Dan,"  he  cried  roughly,  "  what  sort'n 
caper  is  this  ?  " 

The  prostrate  young  fellow  made  an  effort  to 
rise,  so  strong  that  the  already  loosened  cords  re 
laxed  ;  and  as  Taft  emphasized  his  demand  by  a 
sharp  kick  in  the  ribs,  and  an  urgent  exhortation  to 
the  young  sot  to  "  quit  this  damned  fooling,"  the 
sack  which  Sykes  had  worn  some  twenty  hours  as 
hood  and  gag,  and  which,  since  his  wakening 
from  his  long  drunken  sleep,  he  had  strained  in 
every  fibre  by  his  mad  lurches  of  fright  and  efforts 
for  freedom,  rolled  off,  his  pinioned  arms  were  at 
liberty,  and  it  seemed  he  had  naught  to  do  but  to 
sit  up  and  untie  his  craftily  bound  feet  and  legs. 

"Ye  demented  gopher  !  "  cried  Taft  angrily,  as 
Sykes  sat  up  stupidly,  blinking  in  the  gleam  of  the 
lantern.  "  What  ails  ye  ?  Drunk  agin  ?  " 

If  his  bursting  skull  were  admissible  testimony, 
—  but  he  shook  his  head  stoutly  in  pious  negation. 
Taft  kicked  him  once  more  in  the  side  with  a  scorn 
ful  boot. 

"  Then  the  worse  fool  you-uns  !  Look-a-hyar !  " 
he  cried  furiously,  as  he  caught  the  young  man  by 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  263 

the  collar  and  pulled  him  to  his  staggering  feet, 
cutting  with  one  or  two  quick  passes  with  the  knife 
the  ropes  about  his  legs.  "  Look-a-hyar,  ye  gallus- 
bird,  what  ye  hev  done  in  yer  drunken  tantrums ! 
Murder  !  murder  !  or  mighty  nigh  it !  " 

He  swung  the  lantern  round,  so  that  its  flick 
ering  gleams  might  rest  on  the  figure  of  Copley, 
whose  genuine  bonds  so  closely  resembled  the 
plight  which  Sykes  had  thought  his  own.  His 
bloodshot  eyes  distended,  as  he  groped  bending 
toward  it  in  the  darkness. 

"  Who  's  that  ?     Lar'bee  ?  "  he  said.. 

"  Lar'bee  !  "  exclaimed  Taft  scornfully.  "  Lar' 
bee  's  been  out'n  the  still  ever  since  yestiddy 
eveninV 

It  was  Sykes's  drunken  recollection  that  Larra- 
bee  was  here  when  Taft  departed  ;  but  alack !  in  a 
cranium  which  is  occupied  by  a  headache  of  such 
magnitude,  memory  has  scarce  a  corner  to  be  reck 
oned  on.  Nevertheless  he  blurted  out :  — 

"  Ye  tole  me  ter  watch  him,"  —  he  set  his  teeth 
in  a  sort  of  snarl,  and  glanced  up  under  his  eye 
brows  with  a  leer  still  slightly  spirituous,  —  "  ter 
gyard  him  like,  a  dog.  '  Hold  fast ! '  ye  said,  '  hold 
fast ! ' " 

Taft  suddenly  shifted  the  lantern,  to  throw  its 
full  glare  upon  his  own  serious,  grim,  threatening 
face  as  he  loomed  up  in  the  shadows. 

"  Sykes,"  he  said,  "  this  is  a  bad  business  fur 
you,  an'  ye  '11  swing  fur  it,  I  'm  a-thinkin'.  No 
body  never  set  sech  a  besotted  cur  ez  ye  ter  watch 


264  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

nobody.  I  let  Lar'bee  out  myse'f .  Ye  an'  Copley 
war  lef '  hyar  ter  keep  sober  an'  run  the  still ;  an' 
what  do  ye  do  ?  Ye  murder  him !  " 

As  he  lowered  his  big,  booming,  dramatic  voice, 
the  young  fellow's  blood  ran  cold. 

"  Ye  murder  him,  an'  tie  him  up  like  that,  an' 
then  do  yerse'f  up  sorter  fancy  with  bags  an'  a 
rope.  Ye  '11  hev  closer  dealin's  with  a  rope  yit ;  I 
kin  spy  out  that  in  the  day  that 's  kemin'."  His 
eyes  gleamed  with  a  sinister  smile. 

Sykes's  knees  shook. 

"  Oh,  my  Lord !  "  he  exclaimed  wildly.  "  Air  — 
air  he  dead  ?  'T  war  n't  me !  God  A'mighty 
knows  't  war  n't  me  ! "  The  ready  tears  rushed  to 
his  eyes.  "  'T  war  Lar'bee  !  'T  war  Lar'bee  I  " 

"  Shucks  !  "  Taft  turned  wearily  away.  "  Ain't 
I  tole  ye  I  seen  Lar'bee  set  out  'fore  I  did? 
Blackeniii'  Lar'bee  won't  save  ye,  Dan  !  Drink  — 
drink  !  I  tole  ye  drink  would  ruinate  ye  ;  always 
brings  a  man  to  a  bad  e-end.  Pity  ye  hed  n't  put 
some  water  in  the  jug  beforehand,  stiddier  all  them 
tears  in  the  dregs  o'  yer  spree."  He  shook  his 
head.  "  So  it  is  !  So  it  is  !  " 

"  Oh,  is  he  dead,  —  air  ye  sure  he  is  dead  ? " 
cried  the  young  fellow  in  a  heart-rending  voice  of 
appeal,  flinging  himself  upon  his  knees  beside  the 
still,  stark,  motionless  form  of  the  elder  moon 
shiner; 

Taft  swung  the  lantern  slightly,  and  its  lurid 
gleams  played  over  the  haggard,  cadaverous  face, 
ghastly  with  fatigue  and  the  pallor  of  anxiety. 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  265 

The  boy  drew  back,  with  a  shudder  of  repulsion. 
"  Oh,  I  never  went  ter  do  it !  I  never  went  ter  do 
it !  I  war  drunk !  crazy  drunk !  devil  drunk ! 
Oh"  — 

k<  They  say,"  Taft  interrupted  suddenly,  — 
"  leastwise  the  lawyers  do,  —  ez  a  man  bein'  drunk 
in  c'mittin'  a  crime  ought  n't  ter  influence  a  jury, 
—  the  law  makes  no  allowance;  but,"  with  an  en 
couraging  nod,  "they  say,  too,  ez  it  do  influence 
the  jury  every  time.  An'  the  court  can't  holp  it. 
The  jury  will  allow  suthin'  fur  a  man  bein'  drunk." 

The  white  face  of  the  boy,  imposed  against  the 
darkness  with  all  the  contour  of  youth,  had  hardly 
a  characteristic  that  was  not  expressive  of  age,  so 
pinched,  so  lined,  so  drawn,  so  bloodless,  was  every 
sharpened  feature.  The  natural  horror  of  his  sup 
posed  deed,  his  simple,  superficial  repentance  of 
the  involuntary  crime,  were  suddenly  expunged ; 
his  whole  being  was  controlled  by  a  single  impulse  ; 
a  passion  of  fear  possessed  him.  Jury,  crime, 
lawyer,  —  these  words  looking  to  a  legal  arraign 
ment  first  brought  to  his  horror-stricken  mind  the 
idea  of  a  responsibility  other  than  moral  for  his 
deed.  What  slight  independence  of  thought  he 
had,  what  poor  capacity  for  sifting  and  judging 
and  weighing  the  probabilities  his  easily  influenced 
mind  might  have  exerted  as  he  more  and  more  re 
covered  from  his  recent  inebriation,  became  nulli 
fied  upon  the  instant.  He  did  not  look  once  again 
back  to  the  past,  but  to  the  future,  wild,  quaking, 
frenzied,  as  Taft  elected  to  foretell  the  event. 


266  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  That 's  why,"  Taft  coolly  said,  nodding  sagely, 
and  inclining  his  head  toward  the  breathless,  fran 
tic,  almost  petrified  creature,  "  I  'd  leave  it  ter 
men." 

Sykes  recoiled,  with  a  shudder. 

"Yes,"  reiterated  Taft,  weightily  and  slowly. 
"The  jury  would  take  yer  drunk  inter  account; 
an'  on  the  witness-stand  I  'd  testify  ez  ye  war  gin 
over  ter  the  failin'." 

The  young  fellow's  gray,  stony  face  did  not 
change  as  Taft  ceased  to  speak.  Taft  felt  its  fixed 
look  upon  him  as  he  stood,  his  head  bent,  and  his 
big  hat  thrust  back  on  his  yellow  hair ;  one  hand 
was  laid  meditatively  on  his  long  beard,  as  he  gazed 
down  on  the  prostrate  figure  of  Copley ;  with  the 
other  hand  he  held  the  lantern,  whose  spare  white 
glimmers  of  light  thrown  out  into  the  surrounding 
obscurity  seemed  very  meagre  in  the  darksome 
place,  which  was  never  cheerful  at  best,  but  without 
the  roar  and  heat  of  the  furnace,  the  keen,  bril 
liant  glinting  from  the  crevice  of  the  door  when 
closed  or  the  red,  suffusive  flare  when  it  was  swung 
ajar,  the  still-room  was  the  dreariest  presentment 
of  subterranean  gloom. 

"  Yes,"    Taft    continued     thoughtfully,     "  I  'd 

ruther  leave  it  ter  men  —  ter  the  courts,  ye  know 

-  'n  ter  hev  the  folks  round  hyar  ez  war  frien'ly 

ter  Copley  ondertake  ter  settle  ye  fur  it ;  they  'd  — 

Hey?"  he  interrupted  himself. 

For  the  young  fellow  had  reached  out  his  arm 
and  laid  his  hand  with  a  vise-like  grip  upon  Taft's 


HIS    VANISHED   STAK.  267 

wrist.  His  head  was  thrust  forward ;  he  seemed 
about  to  speak,  but  his  parted  lips,  drawn  tight 
across  his  large,  prominent  teeth,  emitted  not  a 
sound,  although  his  wild,  dilated,  bloodshot  eyes 
looked  an  eager  protest.  His  voice  had  failed  in 
framing  the  obnoxious  words,  which,  however,  Taft 
spoke  patly  enough. 

« Why,  ye  know,  they  would  —  they  would. 
Jedge  Lynch  is  the  only  court  fur  this  kentry. 
What  sati'f action  is  it  ter  the  folks  hyarabout,  ter 
hev  a  man  kerried  ter  jail,  thirty  mile  away,  ter 
stan'  his  trial  in  the  courthouse  year  arter  nex', 
mebbe,  an'  then  arter  all  's  come  an'  gone  cheat 
hemp  at  las'  ?  Yes,  that 's  yer  bes'  chance ;  set 
out  fur  Colbury  straight,  an'  s'render  yerse'f  thar." 

He  paused,  apparently  thinking  deeply. 

"  Ef  ye  hed  enny  kin,  though,  in  enny  out'n-the- 
way  place,  my  advices  ter  ye  would  be  ter  cut  an' 
run,  an'  bide  along  o'  them ;  fur  this  hyar  air  a 
mighty  bad  job,  an'  it 's  goin'  ter  go  hard  with  the 
man  ez  done  it." 

Once  more  the  pallid,  evasive  light  flickered 
in  feeble  vibrations  across  the  long,  motionless, 
rope-bound  figure,  and  the  stark  face  curiously  dis 
torted  and  painfully  repulsive  with  the  gag  in 
its  stretched  jaws. 

"  Ye  ain't  got  no  kin  in  no'th  Georgy  ? "  Taft 
demanded. 

"  Naw,"  replied  the  boy  huskily. 

The  suggestion  seemed  to  have  restored  his 
voice,  albeit  muffled  and  shaken;  into  his  eyes, 


268  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

staring,  wide  and  bloodshot,  into  the  gloom,  was 
creeping  a  definiteness  of  expression,  as  if  he  be 
held,  instead  of  the  vacant  black  darkness,  some 
scene  projected  there  as  a  possibility  and  painted 
by  his  expectation.  His  grip  on  Taft's  arm  had* 
relaxed.  It  had  been  close  and  hard,  and  Taft 
rubbed  the  wrist  a  trifle  with  the  hand  that  still 
held  the  lantern,  setting  the  feeble  glimmer 
a-swinging  swiftly  about  the  dark  walls. 

"That's  a  pity,— that's  a  tur'ble  pity,"  Taft 
averred  gloomily ;  then,  with  an  air  of  rousing 
himself,  "  Waal,  ye  '11  jes'  hev  ter  leave  it  ter  men. 
That's  the  bes'  ye  kin  do."  He  was  turning 
briskly  toward  the  tunnel.  "  I  '11  ondertake  ter 
gin  ye  the  matter  of  a  two  hours'  start  of  the  folks 
'bout  hyar  by  not  tellin'  'bout  old  Copley  till  then. 
But  ye  hed  bes'  ride  with  speed,  fur  they  '11  be  hot 
shod  on  yer  tracks,  sure." 

As  he  went  forward  with  his  swinging,  elastic 
stride,  swaying  the  lantern  back  and  forth,  accord 
ing  to  his  wont,  to  illumine  the  path,  his  manner, 
his  words,  his  expression,  so  tallied  with  the  situ 
ation  he  had  invented  and  the  role  he  had  played 
that  even  the  most  discerning  might  have  descried 
no  discrepancy  in  point  of  fact.  The  young  moon 
shiner,  barely  sobered  and  wholly  frightened,  was 
easily  to  be  deluded  by  a  verisimilitude  far  less 
complete.  He  followed,  his  clumsy  feet  stumbling 
and  stepping  awry,  as  if  his  gait  were  still  subject 
to  spirituous  influences  from  which  his  brain  was 
freed.  His  cramped  limbs  yet  felt  the  numbness 


HIS    VANISHED    STAR.  269 

of  their  long  constraint  and  the  pain  of  his  bonds, 
for  Larrabee's  ropes  had  not  been  adjusted  with 
due  regard  to  the  free  circulation  of  the  blood. 
His  progress  was  far  slower  than  his  host's,  who 
paused  from  time  to  time  and  waited  to  be  over 
taken.  On  these  occasions  it  soon  became  appar 
ent  that  there  was  something  in  his  mind  on  which 
he  had  begun  to  ponder  deeply;  for  whereas  at 
first  he  had  visibly  hastened  to  join  Taft  on  seeing 
him  whirl  around,  the  lantern  describing  in  the 
distance  a  wheel  of  pallid  white  light  against  the 
dense  darkness  of  the  tunnel,  he  now  continued  to 
plod  heavily,  slower  and  slower,  even  when  the 
light  settled  to  a  shining  focus,  again  motionless. 
Taft  lifted  it  once  as  Sykes  approached,  throwing 
its  force  full  upon  the  swollen,  mottled,  absorbed 
face,  the  fixed  introspective  eyes,  the  heavy  slouch 
ing  shoulders  and  bent  head.  At  that  moment  of 
careful  reconnoitre  a  genuine  expression  was  on 
Taft's  face,  keen,  furtive,  triumphant ;  it  passed 
unobserved.  He  whirled  around  again,  leading 
the  way  with  the  lantern,  and  it  was  with  a  per 
fectly  cloaked  satisfaction  that  he  began  to  observe 
the  young  fellow's  convulsive  haste  to  depart  as 
they  neared  the  exit  from  the  tunnel,  his  flimsy 
pretense  of  heed  to  his  elder's  advice,  and  finally 
his  heedlessness  altogether,  no  longer  able  to  main 
tain  attention  or  its  semblance. 

He  was  gone  at  last,  and  Taft,  returning  to  his 
prostrate  comrade  in  the  still,  dismissed  him  from 
his  mind,  and  thenceforward  from  his  life,  with  a 


270  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

single  comment.  "  That  drunken  shoat  hev  got  an 
uncle  in  north  Texas,"  he  said,  as  he  placed  the 
lantern  on  the  cold  brick-work  of  the  dead  and 
fireless  furnace.  "  I  knowed  that,  so  I  fixed  it  so 
ez  he  'd  light  out  fur  them  furrin  parts  d'rec'ly. 
He  ain't  dawdlin',  I  'm  thinkin'." 

Then,  as  he  addressed  himself  to  removing  the 
gag  and  cutting  the  bonds  of  the  elder  distiller, 
his  brow  darkened. 

"  That  cuss  Lar'bee's  work,  hey  ?  "  he  demanded 
gruffly  ;  and  as  the  liberated  Copley  gasped  out  an 
assent  Taft  growled  a  deep  oath,  his  face  scarlet, 
his  hands  trembling  with  rage,  his  anger  unleashed, 
and  his  whole  nature  for  the  nonce  unmasked. 

"  That  kerns  from  sparin'  powder  an'  lead," 
he  declared  vindictively.  "  Why  n't  ye  or  Sykes 
shoot  him?" 

"  He  war  too  suddint,"  gasped  Copley.  "  Ye 
never  see  a  painter  so  suddint  an'  sharp." 

"  An'  why  n't  ye  be  suddint,  too  ?  "  retorted  Taft 
aggressively. 

Copley  might  have  protested  that  in  his  own  in 
terest  he  had  been  as  "  suddint "  as  he  could,  and 
had  done  his  best.  He  evidently  felt,  however, 
much  in  fault,  and  as,  in  silence,  he  ruefully  rubbed 
his  numb  limbs,  just  free  from  their  ligatures,  tin 
gling  painfully  with  the  renewal  of  the  circulation 
of  the  blood,  he  gazed  about,  crestfallen  and  hum 
bled,  and  even  grief-stricken,  at  the  scene  of  his 
wonted  labors.  It  was  but  faintly  revealed  by  the 
lantern  on  the  masonry  of  the  furnace,  —  the  dimly 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  271 

white  focus  with  divergent  filaments  of  rays  weav 
ing  only  a  tenuous  web  of  light  in  the  darkness 
which  encompassed  all.  The  great  burly  forms  of 
tubs  and  barrels  were  but  vaguely  glimpsed  as 
brownish  suggestions  in  the  blackness  ;  a  yellow 
gleam  from  the  copper  still  gave  the  effect  of  an 
independent  illumination  rather  than  the  resources 
of  reflection,  so  dull  and  unresponsive  was  all  else 
upon  which  the  lantern  cast  its  glimmer.  Taft  sat, 
according  to  his  habit,  upon  the  side  of  a  barrel, 
his  legs  crossed,  his  elbow  on  one  knee,  his  head 
bowed  upon  his  hand,  his  big  hat  intercepting  all 
view  of  his  face.  Copley  gave  a  long  sigh,  as  his 
spiritless  glance  noted  the  dejection  of  his  friend ; 
but  his  grooved  and  wrinkled  face  seemed  as  in 
capable  of  expressiveness  as  before,  and,  with  its 
tanned  tints  and  blunt,  ill-cut  features,  resembled 
some  unskillful  carving  in  wood  or  a  root.  His 
thoughts  swerved  presently,  almost  with  the  mo 
ment  of  re-attaining  his  liberty,  from  the  immediate 
disaster  to  the  details  of  his  drudgery  which  so 
habitually  occupied  his  every  waking  faculty. 

"That  thar  mash  must  be  plumb  ripe  by  this 
time,"  he  remarked,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  a  spot  in 
the  darkness  where  presumably  the  tub  in  question 
was  situated.  u'Twar  nigh  ripe  whenst  Lar'bee 
jumped  up  demented,  it  'peared  like,  an'  tuk  arter 
we-uns." 

Taft  lifted  a  red  face  and  a  scowling  brow. 
With  an  air  of  reckless  desperation  he  strode  to 
the  tub,  and  the  next  moment  Copley  heard  the 


272  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

splash  as  the  contents  were  poured  out  down  the 
shaft. 

"  Laws-a-massy,  'Renzo !  "  with  the  decisive  ring 
of  anger  in  his  voice  and  all  the  arrogations  of  the 
expert,  "  why  n't  ye  let  me  examinate  it  ?  Ye  ain't 
got  my  'speriunce  ;  ye  ain't  ekal  ter  jedge  like  me. 
Why  n't  ye  "  - 

"  Ye  miser'ble  mole ! "  Taft  retorted  angrily. 
"  Ye  may  be  a  jedge  o'  fermentin'  an'  stillin'  an' 
sech  like,  but  ye  hev  got  powerful  leetle  gumption 
'bout'n  the  signs  o'  the  times.  Thar  ye  sit,  a-yawpin' 
away  'bout  yer  mash,  ripe  or  raw,  an'  I  'm  lookin' 
fur  the  shootin'  irons  o'  the  marshal's  men  under 
my  nose  every  time  I  turn  my  head." 

He  suited  the  action  to  the  word  at  the  moment, 
looking  down  with  a  sudden  squint  which  gave  a 
frightfully  realistic  suggestion  of  the  muzzle  of  a 
weapon  held  at  his  very  teeth. 

"  The  thing 's  busted !  "  Taft  cried  desperately. 
"  It  's  done  !  Kin  ye  onderstan'  that  ?  We-uns 
hev  got  ter  the  jumpin'-off  place  !  " 

The  bewildered  Copley  looked  vaguely  at  the 
verge  of  the  deep  shaft,  perilously  near. 

"  That  Lar'bee  's  loose  now,  full  o'  gredges  fur 
bein'  helt  hyar,"  Taft  continued.  "  We-uns 
oughter  shot  him,  or  let  him  shoot  himself.  An' 
the  dep'ty  sher'ff's  on  his  track,  'lowin'  ez  Es- 
pey  be  Lar'bee  an'  s'picionin'  moonshinin'.  The 
dep'ty  sher'ff  ain't  got  nuthin'  ter  do  with  sech 
ez  mooiishinin'  hisse'f,  but  he  air  tryin'  ter  find 
Lar'bee,  an'  settle  his  gredges  with  him ;  so  he  '11 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  273 

gin  the  revenue  dogs  the  word  'bout  Lar'bee 
an'  distillin',  an'  whenst  Lar'bee  's  tuk  he  '11  take 
a  heap  o'  pleasure  in  guidin'  'em  hyar,  I'll  be 
bound.  He  mought  even  turn  informer  hisse'f ,  ter 
git  even." 

He  sunk  down  suddenly  on  the  barrel. 

"  It 's  powerful  hard  on  me  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  hev 
treated  them  boys  like  they  war  my  own  sons." 
He  had  forgotten,  in  this  arrogation  of  age  and  pa 
ternal  feeling,  his  recent  youthfulness  of  matrimo 
nial  pretensions.  "  I  hev  tuk  'em  in,"  —  he  did  not 
say  in  what  sense,  —  "  an'  divided  fair  with  'em ; 
an'  they  hev  gotten  mo'  money  out'n  me  than  they  'd 
ever  elsewise  view  in  thar  whole  lifetime.  An'  I 
hev  been  keerf  ul  an'  kep'  the  place  secret  an'  quiet. 
I  hev  tuk  good  heed  ter  all  p'ints.  An'  we-uns 
mought  hev  gone  on  peaceful  an'  convenient  till  the 
crack  o'  doom,  ef  it  hed  n't  been  fur  them.  Oh, 
thar  never  war  sech  a  place  ! "  He  looked  round 
with  the  eyes  of  gloating  admiration  on  the  grue 
some,  shadowy  den  about  him,  so  singularly  suited 
to  his  vocation.  "An'  even  the  danger  'bout'n  the 
hotel  is  done  with,  an'  the  Ian'  percessioned  by 
now,  I  reckon,  an'  thar  won't  be  no  mo'  packs  o' 
strangers  in  the  Cove ;  an'  yit  —  an'  yit  —  all  fur 
nuthin' !  " 

He  took  off  his  hat,  and  rubbed  his  corrugated 
brow  with  his  hand  with  a  gesture  of  desperation. 

It  is  a  singular  trait  of  what  might  perhaps  be 
called  sentimental  economy  that  every  individual 
in  this  world  should  be  the  object  of  the  hero  wor- 


274  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

ship  of  some  other.  It  may  be  submitted  that  there 
are  no  conditions  so  sterile  as  to  induce  a  dearth  of 
this  perfectly  disinterested,  unrewarded  admiration 
and  acceptation  of  some  embodied  ideal.  It  is  fa 
miliar  enough  in  the  higher  walks  of  life  and  with 
worthy  objects.  But  there  may  be  a  champion 
among  beggars.  It  is  a  potent  agent.  Its  pur 
blind  flatteries  have  advanced  many  a  dullard  to  a 
foremost  place.  The  plainest  face  has  some  dev 
otee  of  its  beauty ;  and  even  the  most  unpromising 
infant  is  a  miracle  of  grace  and  genius  to  a  doting 
grandmother.  Hardly  a  hero  of  the  world's  history 
is  more  dignified  on  his  elevated  plane  than  was 
Lorenzo  Taft  in  the  eyes  of  his  humble  coadjutor. 
His  wiliness  was  wisdom ;  his  dictatorial  aggressive 
ness,  the  preeminence  of  a  natural  captaincy ;  his 
self-seeking  a  cogent  prudence  ;  and  his  natural 
courage  —  with  which,  indeed,  he  was  well  endowed 
—  the  finest  flower  of  the  extravaganza  of  valor. 

Copley  looked  at  him  now  with  the  respectful 
sympathy  which  one  might  well  feel  in  witnessing 
the  fall  of  a  very  great  man.  He  scarcely  remem 
bered  his  own  interests,  inextricably  involved. 
Every  inflection  of  the  mellow,  sonorous  voice 
raised  to  a  declamatory  pitch  found  a  vibrating  ac 
quiescence  in  chords  of  responsive  emotion.  Every 
unconscious  gesture  of  the  massive  and  imposing 
figure  —  as  histrionically  appropriate  as  if  ac 
quired  by  labor  and  tuition,  since  it  was  indeed 
the  nature  that  art  simulates  —  was  marked  with 
appreciative  eyes.  A  rat  in  a  trap  is  hardly  es- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  275 

teemed  a  fit  object  for  sympathy  by  civilized  com 
munities,  but  consider  the  aspect  and  magnitude 
of  the  catastrophe  to  his  friends  and  neighbors, 
consider  the  emotional  melodrama  within  the  small 
circuit  of  the  wires ! 

"  Don't  take  it  so  tur'ble  hard,  'Renzo,"  expostu 
lated  Copley,  still  seated  on  the  floor. 

For  Taft  was  standing  motionless,  his  eyes  star 
ing  and  fixed,  his  hat  far  back  on  his  head,  expos 
ing  his  set,  drawn  face  with  its  teeth  hard  clenched, 
one  hand  mechanically  clutching  his  flowing  yellow 
beard,  the  other  continually  closing  and  unclosing 
on  the  handle  of  a  pistol  which  he  had  half  drawn 
from  his  pocket,  —  a  habit  of  his  in  moments  of 
mental  perplexity,  as  if  he  instinctively  appealed 
to  this  summary  arbiter  to  decide  on  questions  far 
enough  removed  from  its  jurisdiction. 

"  Don't  be  so  tur'ble  desolated  ;  some  way  out'n 
it,  sure  ez  ye  air  born,"  urged  Copley  in  a  consola 
tory  wheeze. 

The  sound  of  his  voice  seemed  to  rouse  Taft. 
He  caught  himself  with  a  start  and  turned  hastily 
away,  looking  about  as  if  in  search  of  something. 
He  took  the  lantern  presently  to  aid  him  in  this, 
and  when  it  came  back,  glimmering  through  the 
dusk,  he  carried  a  box  of  tools  in  the  other  hand. 

"  Thar 's  one  way  out'n  it,  sure,"  he  said  in  a 
muffled,  changed  voice,  "  though  it 's  gone  powerful 
hard  with  me  ter  git  my  own  cornsent  ter  take  it." 

He  placed  the  lantern  upon  the  furnace,  and,  as 
he  went  vigorously  to  work,  the  astounded  Copley, 


276  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

still  upon  the  ground,  began  to  perceive  that  he 
was  taking  the  apparatus  carefully  apart ;  he  was 
disconnecting  the  worm  from  the  neck,  when  his 
amazed  coadjutor  found  his  voice. 

"  Hold  on,  'Renzo,"  he  remonstrated  ;  "  ye  ain't 
a-goin'  ter  take  the  contraption  down,  surely  "  — 

"Ruther  hev  the  revenuers  do  it?"  said  Taft, 
showing  his  teeth  in  a  sarcastic  smile  as  he  looked 
up.  "  They  '11  make  wuss  slarter  with  the  worm  'n 
I  will."  Then,  pausing,  with  a  frown  of  rancorous 
reminiscence,  "  I  hed  a  still  o'  bigger  capacity  'n 
this  one  over  yander  in  Persimmon  Cove,  an'  they 
cut  it  up  in  slivers,  an'  the  worm  war  lef '  in  pieces 
no  longer  'n  that,"  measuring  with  both  hands,  "  an' 
the  furnace  all  tore  up.  I  never  seen  sech  a  sight 
ez  whenst  I  croped  back  ter  view  the  wreck.  I 
'lowed  I  'd  never  git  forehanded  enough  ter  start 
ter  manufacture  sperits  agin  in  this  worl'." 

He  stood  idly  gazing  down  these  vistas  of  mem 
ory  grimly  enough  for  a  moment;  then,  turning 
back  to  the  still,  "  I  '11  make  a  try  ter  save  the 
property  this  time,  so  when  the  storm  blows  over  we 
kin  git  started  agin  another  way  an'  another  day. 
I  '11  fix  it  so  ez  when  Lar'bee  tells,  his  words  will 
be  cast  back  in  his  teeth  fit  ter  knock  'em  all  down 
his  own  throat.  He  '11  be  sorry  enough,  sure  's  ye 
air  born.  They  '11  be  hard  swallowin'." 

The  natural  fortitude  of  Taft's  character,  the 
elastic  quality  of  his  strength,  his  big,  bluff  mental 
methods,  combined  to  support  him  in  this  ordeal 
to  a  degree  which  contrasted  advantageously  with 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  277 

the  weak,  almost  supine  grief  that  Copley  mani 
fested.  Perhaps,  too,  Taft's  dinner  was  a  material 
element  which  gave  cohesion  and  decision  to  his 
mental  resolves.  Now,  Copley,  half  starved,  ner 
vous,  wild  with  anxiety,  dread  for  the  future,  regret 
for  the  past,  doubt  of  the  present,  would  angrily 
protest,  even  while  he  aided  in  dismantling  the  ap 
paratus  ;  and  then,  after  a  word  or  two  of  argument, 
would  admit  its  necessity,  its  urgency,  and  again 
lament  it  as  futile.  He  almost  wept  when  the  ob 
ject  of  his  solicitude,  which  he  had  served  as  if  it 
were  a  fetich,  was  finally  dismembered,  and  he 
found  only  a  partial  consolation  in  being  himself 
permitted  to  pack  it,  secure  from  injury,  in  boxes 
which  Taft  brought  down  from  the  store.  This 
scanty  satisfaction  was  short-lived,  for,  despite  his 
objection,  Taft  poured  out  upon  the  ground  the 
liquor  which  remained  after  the  shipment  of  the  two 
barrels  to  the  cross-roads.  The  tubs  were  cut  into 
pieces  in  true  "  revenuer  "  fashion,  the  mash  was 
poured  out,  the  furnace  was  demolished  out  of  all 
semblance  to  its  former  proportions  and  uses,  before 
Taft  began  to  lay  the  train  to  blow  the  place  up, 
and  thus  effectually  silence  its  testimony  forever. 

"  S'posV  —  s'pos'n'  "  —  Copley  shivered  — 
"s'posV  somebody  war  in  the  Lost  Time  mine 
down  thar  " 

Taft  paused,  with  a  lot  of  tow  in  his  hands  which 
he  was  arranging  for  a  fuse ;  he  glanced  around, 
the  lantern  swinging  on  his  arm,  as  if  waiting  for 
the  sequel  to  the  unfinished  sentence ;  then,  as 


278  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Copley  remained  vaguely  staring  as  if  at  a  vision 
of  possible  laborers  in  the  Lost  Time  mine,  "  Skeer 
'em  powerful,  I  reckon,"  lie  said  casually,  and  bent 
once  more  to  his  work. 

"  But  —  but "  —  Copley  recommenced,  in  a  tone  so 
urgent  that  Taft  once  more  desisted  to  listen,  with 
an  inquiring  look  on  his  half -turned  face  —  "  but 
—  but  —  s'pos'n'  the  —  a  —  'splosion  o'  the  powder 
war  —  war  ter  bring  down  the  rocks  an'  the  timbers 
in  some  o'  them  tunnels  an'  open  shafts,  an'  some 
body  war  in  thar,  hey  ?  hey  ?  "  with  eager  insist 
ence. 

"  Shut  'em  in  thar  fur  good  an'  all,  I  reckon,  — 
git  buried  a  leetle  before  thar  time,  that 's  all," 
said  Taft  coolly,  and  went  on  with  his  work  as 
before. 

Perhaps  some  vague  premonition,  perhaps  an 
intuition  of  subterranean  proximity  to  an  unsus 
pected  wanderer  in  the  Lost  Time  mine,  perhaps 
only  a  morbid  aversion  to  the  whole  project,  induced 
by  the  lack  of  that  conscience-fortifying  force,  din 
ner,  actuated  Copley,  but  for  the  third  time  he 
sought  to  disaffect  Taft's  mind  toward  it. 

"  Mebbe  somebody  mought  be  passin'  an'  hear 
the  'splosion  ;  mought  n't  they  'low  't  war  cur'us  ? 
What  would  they  make  of  it  ?  " 

Taft  did  not  now  pause  in  his  work ;  he  answered 
still  bending  down  to  the  ground  laying  the  train. 

"  Yearthquake,"  he  said  composedly,  "  or  else 
jes'  some  o'  the  rottin'  timbers  o'  the  mine  settlin' 
an'  givin'  way.  Besides,"  he  added,  straightening 


BIS   VANISHED   STAR.  279 

himself  up,  "  nobody 's  passin'  at  this  time  o'  night, 
nohow." 

"  Night !  "  exclaimed  Copley.     "  Is  it  night  ?  " 

"  Midnight,"  replied  Taft  laconically. 

He  stood  silent,  thinking,  a  moment,  and  resting 
after  the  labor  of  cautiously  adjusting  the  charges 
of  powder ;  and  then,  so  quiet  it  all  was,  not  the 
stir  of  a  breath,  not  the  whisper  of  a  word,  not  the 
silken  rustle  of  a  ribbon  of  flame  in  the  demolished 
furnace,  he  heard,  what  he  had  never  before  heard 
so  far  as  here  in  the  still-room,  the  reiterated  strokes 
of  a  pick  echoing  down  the  tunnel,  and  cleaving  the 
ground  with  the  regularity  of  a  practiced  workman. 
He  said  not  a  word  to  Copley ;  he  walked  along  the 
tunnel  toward  the  sound,  a  chill  thrill  stealing  over 
him  despite  the  fact  that  his  temerity  was  a  trifle 
more  pronounced  than  usual  because  he  was  about 
to  leave  the  place  forever.  The  strokes  continued, 
now  growing  louder,  now  more  muffled,  always  ac 
curately  timed ;  and  suddenly  the  faint  clamors  of 
that  high,  queer,  false-ringing  voice  that  seemed  to 
seek  out  and  shock  every  nerve  within  him.  He 
recoiled  with  fright  and  an  unreasoning  anger.  He 
turned  himself  about,  and  swiftly  changed  the  posi 
tion  of  a  can  filled  with  powder  which  was  to  aid  in 
the  demolition  of  the  place,  arranging  it  in  a  niche 
in  the  earth  close  to  the  wall  whence  the  sound 
came. 

"  I  make  ye  my  partin'  compliments,"  he  said, 
with  a  sarcastic  smile  and  a  mocking  wave  of  the 
hand  to  the  gruesome  unknown.  The  next  moment 


280  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

his  expression  changed  to  a  frightened  gravity,  and 
he  ran  through  the  black  tunnel  as  if  he  consciously 
had  the  devil  at  his  heels,  pausing  not  until  he  was 
safe  in  the  cellar  beneath  the  store. 

The  paroxysm,  if  so  it  might  be  called,  passed  in 
a  moment,  and  he  was  laughing  as  he  stood  at  the 
aperture  of  the  tunnel,  holding  the  lantern,  red- 
faced  and  a  trifle  shamefaced,  when  Copley,  left  far 
behind,  came  hobbling  up  slowly  and  painfully. 
Taf  t  was  quite  restored ;  it  was  with  his  own  as 
sured,  definite  manner  and  elastic  stride  that  he 
presently  took  his  way  along  the  tunnel  again  and 
applied  the  match  to  the  fuse.  He  evidently  accom 
plished  his  work  thoroughly,  for  he  had  no  doubts 
of  its  efficacy  when  he  returned  and  stood  leaning 
against  a  pile  of  boxes,  waiting  quite  carelessly  as 
here  and  there  tiny  stellular  lights  sprang  up  along 
that  darksome  way  that  was  not  wont  to  blossom  out 
such  constellations. 

Stars  ?  No ;  lines  of  fire,  vermicular,  writhing, 
growing,  serpentine,  swiftly  gliding,  armed  with 
venom,  with  destruction  under  their  forked  tongues  ; 
for  suddenly  a  flare,  a  frightful  clap  as  of  thunder, 
a  wrench  as  if  the  foundations  of  the  earth  were 
torn  asunder,  and  the  two  men  were  thrown  to  the 
ground  and  the  lantern  extinguished  in  the  jar. 

The  reverberations  were  slow  to  die  away ;  only 
gradually  quiet  came.  A  stillness  ensued,  stifling 
with  dust,  and  with  such  strong  sense  of  alternation 
with  that  moment  of  deafening  detonation  that  the 
pulses  quivered  with  expectancy,  and  the  slightest 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  281 

movement  set  the  nerves  to  jarring.  Taft  had 
groped  for  a  light,  and  as  the  faint  coruscation  of 
a  match,  then  the  steadier  gleam  of  the  lantern, 
pierced  the  darkness,  the  nearest  results  of  the  ex 
plosion  were  open  to  view.  The  timbers  roofing 
the  tunnel  had  been  shaken  down,  and  close  at 
hand  masses  of  earth  had  fallen  with  them  and  lay 
banked  at  the  very  door.  If  Taft  had  been  warned 
in  a  dream,  he  could  hardly  have  made  his  defense 
more  perfect.  He  and  his  one  trusted  adherent 
worked  there  the  rest  of  the  night.  The  old  origi 
nal  timbers  of  the  house,  partly  rotten  and  time- 
stained,  were  replaced  as  formerly,  leaving  no  trace 
that  there  had  ever  been  an  entrance  into  the 
abandoned  mine;  and  when  at  last  Taft  clam 
bered  through  the  aperture  of  the  counter  into  the 
store,  he  left  the  door  broadly  flaring  after  him. 

"Trust  Sis  ter  notice  it,"  he  remarked. 
"  She  '11  git  used  ter  it  in  ten  minits,  an'  it  '11  'pear 
like  she  always  knowed  't  war  thar." 

The  still  was  conveyed  some  miles  away  and 
buried  in  a  marked  spot,  and  thus  the  business  of 
moonshining  was  abandoned  at  the  moment  when 
the  project  of  the  summer  hotel,  from  which  it  had 
so  much  to  fear,  was  pretermitted  amidst  its  varied 
entanglements,  and  the  Cove,  which  certainly  could 
not  have  comfortably  contained  both,  was  left  with 
out  either  for  the  nonce. 


XV. 

As  Julia  entered  her  father's  house,  quite  fresh 
and  dry  after  the  tumults  of  the  storm,  each  of  the 
group  gathered  about  the  fireside  was  too  insist 
ently  preoccupied  at  the  moment  to  notice  the  dis 
crepancy  between  her  spotless  attire  and  the  aspects 
of  the  weather,  except  indeed  Luther.  The  details 
of  their  attire  she  marked  at  once,  and  dimpled  at 
the  sight.  These  rain-lashed  victims  of  the  proces 
sioning  had  hustled  themselves  into  their  cast-off 
gear ;  and  albeit  the  fashions  of  the  day  were  not 
exigent  in  the  Cove,  very  forlorn  appeared  these 
ancient  garments,  having  long  ago  seen  the  best  of 
their  never  very  good  days.  Cap'n  Lucy's  brown 
coat  was  like  a  russet  old  crinkled  leaf,  as  it  clung, 
out  of  shape  and  ruffled  by  unskillful  folding,  about 
him ;  Luther  wore  one  of  his  own  of  former  years, 
far  too  small  now  for  his  burly  shoulders  that  threat 
ened  to  burst  out  of  it  at  every  seam,  and  his  long 
arms  that  protruded  their  blue  shirt  sleeves  only 
half  covered  from  the  elbow.  He  met  her  glance 
with  a  resentful  glare,  as  if  he  could  imagine  now 
no  cause  for  mirth,  which  was  untimely  in  its  best 
estate.  His  Sunday  coat  graced  the  form  of  Jasper 
Larrabee,  who  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire,  and 
who  albeit  not  of  the  processioning  party,  had  been 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  283 

caught  in  the  rain  in  coming  hither.  Although 
as  tall  as  Luther,  he  was  much  more  slender,  and 
he  seemed  to  have  shrunk,  somehow,  in  the  ampli 
tude  of  his  host's  big  blue  coat.  He  gave  Julia 
a  formal  greeting,  and  was  apparently  much  per 
turbed  by  the  untoward  state  of  mind  in  which  he 
found  Cap'n  Lucy.  And  indeed  Cap'n  Lucy's 
face  seemed  to  have  adopted  sundry  wrinkles  from 
his  coat,  so  old,  so  awry,  so  crinkled,  so  suggestive 
of  better  days,  had  it  suddenly  become.  Julia  was 
reminded  all  at  once  of  the  business  interests  at 
stake. 

"  How  did  the  percessionin'  turn  out,  dad  ?  "  she 
inquired,  as  she  stood  with  her  hand  on  the  back  of 
a  chair,  and  looked  across  the  fire  at  him. 

If  any  eyes  might  watch  Fortune's  wheel  undis 
mayed,  whether  it  swing  high  or  low,  one  might 
deem  them  these  surely,  with  perpetual  summer 
blooming  there,  as  if  there  were  no  frosts,  no 
winter's  chill,  no  waning  of  time  or  love  or  life. 
What  cared  she  for  land  or  its  lack  ? 

The  forelegs  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  chair  came  to  the 
floor  with  an  irascible  thump.  He  turned  and 
surveyed  the  room ;  then,  looking  at  her,  "  Air  yer 
eyesight  good  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Toler'ble,"  she  admitted. 

"  D'  ye  see  that  thar  contraption  ?  "  he  contin 
ued,  leaning  forward,  and  pointing  with  great  em- 
pressement  at  a  spinning-wheel  in  the  corner. 

"  I  see  it,"  she  said,  meeting  his  keen  return 
glance. 


284  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

"  D'  ye  know  what  it  's  made  fur  ?  "  he  inquired, 
dropping  his  voice,  and  with  an  air  of  being  about 
to  impart  valuable  information. 

"  Fur  spinning''  she  answered  wonderingly. 

"  Oh,  ye  know,  do  ye  ?     Then  —  mind  it." 

And  thus  he  settled  the  woman  question,  in  his 
own  house  at  least,  and  repudiated  feminine  interest 
and  inquisitiveness  in  his  business  affairs,  and 
spurned  feminine  consolation  and  rebuke  as  far  as 
he  could,  —  poor  Cap'n  Lucy ! 

Larrabee  had  that  sense  of  being  ill  at  ease 
which  always  characterizes  a  stranger  whose  un 
happy  privilege  it  is  to  assist  at  a  family  quarrel. 
He  was  divided  by  the  effort  to  look  as  if  he  un 
derstood  nothing  of  ill  temper  in  the  colloquy, 
and  the  doubt  as  to  whether  he  did  not  appear  to 
side  with  one  or  the  other, — to  relish  Julia's  rel 
egation  to  the  spinning-wheel,  or  to  resent  Cap'n 
Lucy's  strong  measures ;  or  perhaps  he  might  seem 
lightly  scornful  of  both. 

He  gazed  steadily  out  of  the  open  door,  where 
a  great  lustrous  copper-tinted  sky  glassed  itself  in 
myriads  of  gleaming  copper-tinted  ponds  made  in 
every  depression  by  the  recent  rains  ;  between  were 
the  purplish-black  mountains  cut  sharply  on  the 
horizon.  He  heard  a  mocking-bird  singing,  and 
what  a  medley  the  frogs  did  pipe !  Then  rushed 
out  into  the  midst  the  whir  of  Julia's  spinning- 
wheel,  which  made  all  other  songs  of  the  evening 
only  its  incidental  burden.  She  sat  near  the  door, 
her  figure  imposed  upon  those  bright  hues  of  sky 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  285 

and  water  as  if  she  were  painted  on  some  lustrous 
metal.  Their  reflection  was  now  and  again  on  her 
hair  ;  she  might  have  seemed  surrounded  by  some 
glorious  aureola.  Not  that  he  definitely  discerned 
this.  He  only  felt  that  she  was  fairer  than  all 
women  else,  and  that  the  evening  gleamed.  The 
bird's  song  struck  some  chord  in  his  heart  that 
silently  vibrate.d,  and  ihe  whir  of  her  wheel  was 
like  a  hymn  of  the  fireside.  He  wished  that  he 
had  never  left  it  for  Taft  and  his  gang,  and  the 
hope  of  making  money  for  a  home  of  his  own,  since 
his  mother's  hospitality  had  well-nigh  left  him 
homeless.  The  thought  roused  him  to  a  recollec 
tion  of  his  errand. 

"  I  kem  hyar  ter  git  yer  advices,  Cap'n  Lucy," 
he  began. 

Cap'n  Lucy  turned  upon  him  a  silent  but 
snarling  face.  He  needed  all  his  "  advices "  for 
himself. 

"  I  ain't  got  nuthin'  ter  hide  from  you-uns,"  Lar- 
rabee  continued,  after  a  pause  for  the  expected  re 
ply.  "  Ye  know  all  I  do,"  —  a  fleeting  recollection 
of  the  still  came  over  him,  —  "  that  I  'm  able  ter 
tell,"  he  added;  for  the  idea  of  betraying  the  se 
crets  involving  Taft  and  the  other  moonshiners 
had  never  entered  his  mind. 

Cap'n  Lucy's  scornful  chin  was  tossed  upward. 

"  We-uns  feel  toler'ble  compliminted,"  he  averred, 
"  ter  hev  it  'lowed  ez  we-uns  knows  all  you-uns  do, 
fur  that 's  a  heap,  ez  ye  air  aimin'  ter  tell." 

"  I  mean  - —  I   went   ter   say,  Cap'n   Lucy  "  — 


286  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Jasper  Larrabee's  words,  in  their  haste,  tripped 
one  over  the  other,  as  they  sought  to  set  their 
meaning  in  better  array. 

"  He  jes'  means,  uncle  Lucy,  ez  it  ain't  no  new 
thing,"  Adelicia  interposed  to  expound,  touched  by 
the  anxious  contrition  of  the  younger  man,  who  was 
leaning  eagerly  forward,  his  elbow  on  his  knee, 
toward  the  elder,  and  to  allay  the  contrariety  of 
spirit  of  "  uncle  Lucy." 

"  An'  meddlin'  ain't  no  new  thing,  nuther,  with 
you-uns,  Ad'licia,"  snarled  Cap'n  Lucy,  much 
overwrought.  "  I  wish  ter  Gawd,  with  all  the 
raisin'  an'  trainin'  I  hev  hed  ter  gin  ye,  I  could 
hev  larnt  ye  ter  hold  yer  jaw  wunst  in  a  while 
whenst  desir'ble,  an'  show  sech  manners  ez  —  ez 
T'bithy  thar  kin."  He  pointed  at  the  cat  on  the 
hearth,  and  gave  a  high,  fleering  laugh,  in  which 
the  sarcastic  vexation  overmastered  every  sugges 
tion  of  mirth. 

A  slight  movement  of  Tabitha's  ears  might  have 
intimated  that  she  marked  the  mention  of  her  name. 
Otherwise  she  passed  it  with  indifference.  With 
her  skimpy,  shabby  attire,  —  her  fur  seemed  never 
to  flourish,  —  her  meek  air  of  disaffection  with  the 
ways  of  this  world,  her  look  of  adverse  criticism 
as  her  yellow  eyes  followed  the  movements  of  the 
family,  her  thankless  but  resigned  reception  of  all 
favors  as  being  less  than  she  had  a  right  to  expect, 
her  ladylike  but  persistent  exactions  of  her  prerog 
atives,  gave  her,  somehow,  the  style  of  a  reduced 
gentlewoman,  and  the  quietude  and  gentle  indiffer- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  287 

ence  and  air  of  superiority  of  the  manners  on  which 
Cap'n  Lucy  had  remarked  were  very  genteel  as 
far  as  they  went. 

Adelicia  seemed  heedless  of  the  mentor  thus 
pointed  out.  She  noisily  gathered  up  her  work, 
somewhat  cumbrous  of  paraphernalia,  since  it  con 
sisted  of  a  small  cedar  tub,  a  large  wooden  bowl, 
and  a  heavy  sack  of  the  reddest  of  apples  which 
she  was  paring  for  drying,  and  carried  it  all  around 
the  fireplace  to  seat  herself  between  the  two  parties 
to  this  controversy. 

"  Now,  uncle  Lucy,  ye  jes'  got  ter  gin  Jasper  yer 
advices,  an'  holp  him  out'n  whatever  snap  he  hev 
got  inter." 

Her  deep  gray  eyes  smiled  upon  the  young  man, 
as  the  firelight  flashed  upon  her  glittering  knife  and 
the  red  fruit  in  her  hand,  although  her  delicate 
oval  face  was  grave  enough.  Ever  and  again  she 
raised  her  head,  as  she  worked,  to  toss  back  the 
tendrils  of  her  auburn  hair  which  were  prone  to  fall 
forward  as  she  bent  over  the  task.  There  was  a 
moment's  silence  as  Jasper  vainly  sought  to  collect 
his  ideas. 

"  Tell  on,  Jasper,"  she  exhorted  him.  "  I  'm  by 
ter  pertect  ye  now.  An'  ennyhows,  uncle  Lucy's 
bark  is  a  long  shakes  wuss  'n  his  bite." 

She  smiled  encouragingly  upon  the  suppliant  for 
advice  ;  her  own  face  was  all  unmarred  by  the  per 
ception  that  matters  had  gone  much  amiss  with  the 
processioning  of  the  land,  for  uncle  Lucy  was  a 
man  often  difficult  to  please,  and  sometimes  only  a 


288  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

crumple  in  his  rose  leaf  was  enough  to  make  him 
condemn  the  queen  of  flowers  as  a  mere  vegetable, 
much  overrated.  The  girl's  aspect  was  all  the 
brighter  as  she  wore  a  saffron-tinted  calico  blouse 
and  apron  with  her  brown  homespun  skirt,  and  she 
seemed,  with  her  lighted  gray. eyes,  her  fair,  color 
less  face,  and  her  ruddy  auburn  hair,  a  property 
of  the  genial  firelight,  flickering  and  flaring  on  the 
bright  spot  of  color  which  she  made  in  the  brown 
shadows  where  she  sat  and  pared  the  red  apples. 
She  reverted  in  a  moment  to  that  proclivity  to 
argue  with  Cap'n  Lucy  which  was  so  marked .  in 
their  conversation. 

"  An'  who  is  the  young  men  ter  depend  on  in 
thar  troubles,  uncle  Lucy,  ef  not  the  old  ones  ? " 
she  demanded. 

"  On  the  young  gals,  'pears  like,"  promptly  re 
torted  "  uncle  Lucy,"  pertinently  and  perversely. 

Then  he  caught  himself  suddenly.  In  the  im 
possibility,  under  the  circumstances,  to  concentrate 
his  mind  exclusively  on  his  own  affairs,  his  interest 
in  correlated  matters  was  reasserted.  It  occurred 
to  him  that  it  behooved  him  to  foster  any  predilec 
tion  that  Adelicia  might  show  for  any  personable 
man  other  than  the  fugitive  Espey.  He  could  see 
naught  but  perplexity  and  complication  of  many 
sorts  .to  ensue  for  himself  and  his  household  should 
Espey  return  ;  and  although  Cap'n  Lucy  selfishly 
hoped  and  believed  that  this  was,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  impossible,  still  he  had  reluctantly  learned 
by  bitter  experience  the  fallibility  of  his  own  judg- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  289 

ment.  It  seemed  to  him  a  flagrant  instance  of  in 
constancy  on  Adelicia's  part,  but  Cap'n  Lucy  gave 
that  no  heed.  Few  men  truly  resent  a  woman's 
cruelty  to  another  man.  Adelicia  might  have 
brought  all  the  youth  in  the  county  to  despair,  for 
all  hard-hearted  Cap'n  Lucy  would  have  cared. 
And  thus  her  appeal  for  Jasper  Larrabee  was  not 
altogether  disregarded. 

"  Goin'  ter  set  thar  an'  chaw  on  it  all  day, 
Jasper  ?  "  he  demanded  acridly.  "  Why  n't  ye  spit 
it  out?" 

"  Why,"  said  Larrabee,  "  it 's  'bout  this  hyar 
Jack  Espey." 

The  apple  dropped  from  Adelicia's  hand,  and 
rolled  unheeded  across  the  hearth ;  the  spinning- 
wheel  was  suddenly  silent,  and  Julia,  all  glorified  in 
the  deeply  yellow  glare  about  her,  sat  holding  it 
still  with  one  hand  on  its  rim.  Cap'n  Lucy's  head 
was  canted  to  one  side,  as  if  he  were  prepared  to 
deliberate  impartially  on  some  difficult  proposition. 

"  This  Jack  Espey,  —  I  met  up  with  him  at  the 
cross-roads  store,  an'  struck  up  a  likin'  fur  him,  an' 
brung  him  home  an'  tuk  him  in,  an'  he  hev  been 
thar  with  me  fur  months  an'  months  —  an'  —  an' 
he  never  tole  me  ez  he  hed  enny  cause  ter  shirk 
the  law." 

"  He  war  'feared  ter,  I  reckon,  Jasper,"  said 
Adelicia. 

"  He  never  meant  no  harm,  Jasper,"  the  silent 
Julia  broke  in  from  where  she  sat  in  her  dull  red 
dress  against  the  tawnily  gilded  glories  of  the  west 
ern  sky. 


290  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Beyond  a  mechanical  "  Hesh  up,  Ad'licia,"  Cap'ii 
Lucy  gave  them  no  heed,  but  Luther  glanced 
sharply  from  one  to  the  other. 

Jasper  Larrabee  replied  in  some  sort :  "  Then 
he  never  treated  me  with  the  same  confidence  I 
done  him.  An',  Cap'n  Lucy,"  he  continued,  "  ye 
yerse'f  seen  the  e-end  o'  it.  He  purtended  ter  the 
sher'ff  ter  be  me,  an'  tuk  advantage  o'  my  mother's 
callin'  him  '  sonny,'  an'  wore  my  name,  an'  went 
with  'em  a-sarchin'  fur  hisse'f ;  an'  whenst  he  got 
skeered,  thinkin'  ez  they  knowed  him,  he  resisted 
arrest,  an'  kem  nigh  ter  takin'  the  officer's  life, 
whilst  purtendin'  ter  be  me,  in  my  name !  " 

"  He  never  meant  no  harm,"  faltered  Adelicia, 
aghast  at  this  showing  against  her  absent  lover. 

"  None  in  the  worl' ;  he  never  went  ter  harm 
nuthin',"  protested  Julia's  flutelike  tones. 

"  Did  ye  kem  hyar  ter  git  my  advices  fur  Jack 
Espey?"  demanded  Cap'n  Lucy  sourly.  "He 
needs  'em,  I  know,  but  "  — 

"  Naw,  Cap'n  Terns.  I  kem  ter  git  'em  fur  my- 
se'f,  fur  I  dunno  which  way  ter  turn.  You-uns 
hyar  saw  the  e-end  o'  it,  —  the  night  the  dep'ty 
kem  a-sarchin'  fur  Jasper  Lar'bee,  who  he  'lowed 
he  hed  flung  over  the  bluffs,  an'  I  went  along  at 
his  summons,  knowin'  't  war  Espey  ez  hed  got 
away  from  him,  purtendin'  ter  be  me." 

Cap'n  Lucy  nodded. 

"  Now  I  have  hearn  that  dep'ty  air  in  the  Cove 
agin." 

Cap'n   Lucy   remembered   the    dark,   facetious, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  291 

malicious  face  that  the  officer  had  borne  as  a  spec 
tator  of  the  processioning  of  the  land.  He  nodded 
again.  "  I  hev  seen  him  hyar  ter-day." 

"  Ef  I  war  knowed  ter  him  ez  Lar'bee,  whenst 
he  finds  out  't  war  Espey  ez  escaped  that  night,  I 
mought  be  'rested  fur  harborin'  a  fugitive,  ez  holpin' 
out  the  murder  arter  the  fac'  — an'  —  an'  my  mother 
—  Espey  gin  me  no  chance,  no  ch'ice !  Would  n't 
ye  'low  ez  ennybody  —  ennybody  —  would  hev  tole 
rne  that,  Cap'n  Lucy,  ter  gin  me  the  ch'ice  o'  dan- 
germ'  myse'f  afore  he  tuk  so  much  from  me  an' 

*  O  59 

mine  f 

Cap'n  Lucy  changed  countenance.  This  was  a 
new  view  of  the  matter.  He  had  not  judged  from 
Larrabee's  standpoint ;  for  he  himself  had  had  full 
knowledge  of  the  circumstances  and  the  fact  that 
they  were  withheld  from  Espey' s  entertainer.  This 
was  made  suddenly  manifest. 

"  Why,  Jasper,"  expostulated  Adelicia,  her  eyes 
full  of  tears,  her  vibrant  tones  tremulous  with  emo 
tion,  "  he  'lowed  ter  we-uns  ez  he  war  sure  the  man 
would  n't  die  o'  the  gunshot  wound,  bein'  powerful 
big  an'  hearty ;  but  he  tuk  out  an'  run,  bein'  tur- 
r'ble  'feared  o'  the  law,  and  arrest  an'  lyin'  in  jail 
fur  a  long  time,  waitin',  an'  uncle  Lucy  said  " 

She  paused  suddenly,  for  Jasper  Larrabee  had 
leaned  forward  in  his  chair,  scanning  the  faces 
about  him  with  a  blank  amazement  so  significant 
that  it  palsied  the  words  on  her  tongue. 

"Espey  tole  you-uns !  An'  Espey  tole  yer 
uncle  Lucy  !  Why,  then  ye  all  knowed  him  ter 


292  HIS    VANISHED    STAR. 

be  a  runaway,  an'  ye  knowed  ez  he  war  a-playin' 
liis  deceits  on  nobody  but  me  an'  my  mother  ez  hed 
got  him  quartered  on  us,  an'  mebbe  war  liable  ter 
the  law  fur  it." 

Adelicia,  trembling,  leaned  back  in  her  chair. 
Cap'n  Lucy  cast  an  infuriated  glance  upon  her, 
and  then,  with  a  hasty,  nervous  hand,  rubbed  his 
brow  back  and  forth,  as  if  to  stimulate  his  brain 
that  offered  no  solution  of  the  difficulty.  Jasper 
Larrabee  still  sat  leaning  forward,  his  clear-cut  face 
full  of  keen  thought,  a  flush  on  his  pale  cheek,  a 
fire  kindling  in  his  brown  eyes,  and  a  sarcastic 
smile  curving  his  angry  lips. 

"  My  Gawd ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  a  cur'ous 
thing  ez  my  mother  ain't  got  a  frien'  in  this  worl' ! 
She  says  she  don't  work  fur  thanks,  an'  I  '11  take 
my  livin'  oath  she  don't  git  'em.  That  thar  door 
o'  the  widder's  cabin  on  the  Notch  hev  stood  open 
ter  the  frien'less  day  an'  night  since  I  kin  remem 
ber.  Her  table 's  spread  for  the  hongry.  Her 
h'a'th  's  the  home  o'  them  ez  hev  no  welcome  else- 
wise  an'  elsewhere.  An'  her  nigh  neighbor  an' 
old  frien'  sees  a  s'pected  murderer  quarter  himself 
thar,  an'  bring  s'picion  an'  trouble  ennyhow,  an' 
danger  mebbe,  on  her  an'  hern.  Ye  mought  hev 
advised  Espey  ter  gin  her  her  ch'ice,  or  leave.  Ye 
mought  hev  done  ez  much  ez  that !  My  mother  's 
a  old  'oman ;  an'  she  's  a  proud  'oman,  though  ye 
mought  n't  think  it,  an'  the  bare  idee  o'  sech  talk 
ez  that,  —  of  s'picion,  an'  arrest,  an'  jail, — it 
would  kill  her !  it  would  kill  her  !  " 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  293 

Cap'n  Lucy  sat  almost  stunned,  as  under  an 
arraignment.  He  pulled  mechanically  at  his  pipe, 
but  his  head  was  sunk  on  his  breast,  and  his  face 
was  gray  and  set.  The  circumstances  so  graphic 
ally  placed  before  him  seemed  to  have  no  relation 
to  those  of  his  recollection ;  they  wore  a  new  guise. 
He  had  known  all  his  life  instances  of  collision  in 
which  powder  and  lead  had  played  more  or  less  a 
tragic  part ;  but  the  role  of  the  law  had  always 
been  subsidiary  and  inadequate  in  the  background 
of  the  scene,  sometimes  represented  only  by  an  out 
witted  officer,  and  the  jollity  of  details  of  hair 
breadth  escapes.  This  construction  of  crime  was 
beyond  his  purview  of  facts.  He  did  not  know, 
or  he  did  not  remember,  that  aught  that  others 
than  the  principal  could  do  subsequent  to  a  crime 
might  render  them  liable  as  accessory  after  the  fact. 
Espey  had,  in  a  fight,  shot  his  antagonist, — 
such  things  were  of  frequent  occurrence  in  Cap'n 
Lucy's  memory.  He  never  expected  to  see  or  to 
hear  of  the  beagles  of  the  law  on  the  trail  of  the 
fugitive ;  his  care,  and  his  only  care,  was  to  prevent 
his  niece  from  marrying  an  expatriated  man  while 
expatriated. 

He  thought  now  with  a  grievous  sense  of  fault 
of  old  "  Widder  Lar'bee,"  —  her  softness,  her 
kindness,  her  life  of  care  for  others  ;  and  then  he 
thought  of  Rodolphus  Ross  and  his  crude  brutality, 
his  imperviousness  to  any  sanctions,  his  rough  inter 
pretation  of  fun,  his  eagerness  to  shield  his  own 
lapses  of  official  vigilance,  his  grudges  against  the 


294  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

supposed    Larrabee,  and  his  threats.     What  mis 
chief  might  a  chance  word  work ! 

The  dusky  red  of  the  last  of  the  evening  glow 
was  creeping  across  the  floor.  All  the  metallic 
yellow  glare  was  tarnished  in  the  sky.  Instead 
were  strata  of  vaporous  gray  and  slate  tints  alter 
nating  with  lines  of  many-hued  crimson,  graduated 
till  the  ethereal  hue  of  faintest  rose  ended  the 
ascending  scale  of  color.  Still  the  frogs  chorused 
and  still  the  bird  sang,  but  shadows  had  fallen, 
and  they  were  not  all  of  the  night.  Something  of 
melancholy  intimations  drew  his  eyes  to  the  purple 
heights  without  as  Jasper  Larrabee  spoke. 

"  Waal,  I  'm  her  friend,  ef  she  ain't  got  nare 
nother."  And  then,  as  if  he  felt  he  were  arrogat 
ing  unduly  to  his  purpose,  "  An'  I  s'pose  I  'm  a 
friend  o'  my  own,  too,  an'  I  know  I  ain't  got  nare 
nother.  I  kem  hyar  ter-night  fur  yer  advices, 
Cap'n  Terns ;  but  ez  ye  don't  'pear  ter  have  none 
ter  gimme,  I  b'lieve  I  '11  take  my  own.  I  '11  settle 
this  thing  for  myse'f .  I  '11  find  Jack  Espey  !  I  '11 
track  him  out.  I  '11  run  him  down.  I  '11  arrest 
him  myse'f,  an'  I  '11  deliver  him  ter  the  law.  An' 
let  the  door  o'  the  jail  that  he  opened  fur  me  be 
shut  an'  barred  on  him !  "  There  was  a  concen 
trated  fury  in  his  face  as  he  said  this.  "  I  won't 
hide  no  mo'  like  a  beast  o'  the  yearth  in  a  den  in 
the  ground,  consortin'  with  wuss  'n  wolves  an'  bar 
an'  painters.  I  won't  skulk  homeless  like  a  harnt 
no  mo'  through  the  woods.  I  won't  shirk  the  sher'ff 
no  mo'  fur  Jack  Espey's  crimes,  an'  'kase  I  done 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  295 

him  nuthin'  but  good  an'  kindness  !     I  '11  find  him, 
—  the  yearth  can't  kiver  him  so  I  can't  find  him,  — 
an'  I  '11  deliver  him  ter  the  law  !  " 

He  stood  for  one  moment  more,  and  then  he 
strode  across  the  room  to  the  door,  his  shadow  blot 
ting  out  the  last  red  light  of  the  day,  leaving  the 
circle  about  the  fire  gazing  wistfully  and  aggrieved 
after  him,  except  Luther,  who  was  picking  up  the 
borrowed  coat  which  Larrabee  had  tossed  aside  as 
he  passed. 

Outside  the  night  had  fallen  suddenly.  The 
west  was  clouded,  despite  the  lingering  red  strata, 
and  the  twilight  curtailed.  He  looked  through 
purple  tissues  of  mists  that  appeared  to  have  the 
consistency  of  a  veil,  to  where  yellow  lights  already 
gleamed  through  the  shadows.  They  came  from  the 
shanties  of  the  workmen  beneath  the  cliffs,  on  which 
the  ruins  of  the  hotel  had  at  last  ceased  to  smoke. 
He  hardly  knew  whither  to  turn.  What  pressure 
for  explanations,  what  unbearable  inquisitive  in 
sistence,  would  meet  him  at  home,  where  Henrietta 
Timson  reigned  in  the  stead  of  his  mother,  he  could 
well  forecast ;  to  venture  near  the  Lost  Time  mine, 
within  reach  of  Taft,  was,  he  knew,  as  much  as 
his  life  was  worth.  He  hesitated  now  and  again, 
as  he  went  aimlessly  up  the  road ;  regretting  his 
outbreak  at  the  Terns  cabin ;  coveting  its  shelter, 
its  fireside,  the  companionship  of  the  home  group ; 
half  minded  to  return  thither;  but  resentment 
because  of  their  half-hearted  friendship,  as  he 
deemed  it,  pride  and  anger  and  shame,  conspired 


296  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

to  withhold  him.  Once  again,  as  he  ascended  the 
mountain,  he  turned  and  looked  down  at  the  cluster 
of  orange-tinted  lights  from  the  workmen's  shanties 
that  clung  so  close  together  in  the  depths  of  the 
purple  valley,  and  he  hesitated  anew.  White  mists 
were  abroad  on  their  stealthy  ways ;  a  brooding 
stillness  held  the  clouds;  the  mountains  loomed 
sombre,  melancholy,  against  them,  indistinguishable 
and  blent  with  them  toward  the  west,  save  when 
the  far-away  lightnings  of  the  past  storm  fluctuated 
through  their  dense  gray  folds,  and  showed  the 
differing  immovable  outline  of  the  purple  heights. 
In  the  invisible  pools  below  these  transient  flashes 
were  glassed,  shining  through  the  gloom.  The  re 
flection  of  stars  failed  midway,  because  of  the  mist. 
There  were  few  as  yet  in  the  sky,  but  as  he  lifted 
his  eyes  he  beheld  again,  immeasurably  splendid  in 
the  purple  dusk,  that  sudden  kindling  of  ethereal, 
palpitating,  white  fire  which  he  had  marked  once 
before,  —  that  new  and  supernal  star,  strange  to  all 
familiar  ways  of  night  hitherto,  shining  serene, 
aloof,  infinitely  fair  above  the  melancholy  piping 
mountain  wilds  and  the  troublous  toils  of  the  world. 


XVI. 

JASPER  LARRABEE  stood  transfixed,  gazing  at 
that  tremulous,  luminous  astral  presence  with  a 
strange  superstitious  thrill  at  his  heart.  It  hardly 
seemed  merely  a  star,  so  alien  to  his  mind  was  its 
aspect  in  the  erst  uiitenanted  spaces  whence  it 
blazed,  so  freighted  with  occult  significance.  Had 
the  moment  been  charged  with  some  wonderful 
apotheosis,  some  amplification  of  its  pure  white 
lustre  into  the  benignant  splendors  of  a  vision  of 
angels,  the  transformation  could  scarcely  have  ex 
ceeded  the  capacities  of  that  breathless,  insistent 
expectation  which  the  ignorant  mountaineer  lifted 
toward  it.  For  his  was  a  simple  faith,  and  his 
untaught  mind  had  learned  no  doubts.  And  had 
never  these  nights  of  ours  communion  with  ce 
lestial  pursuivants?  Did  never  the  flutter  of  an 
angel's  wing  illumine  far  perspectives  that  darkle 
heavily  over  the  earth?  Was  this  rare  fluid, 
which  we  call  the  air,  so  dense ;  were  its  sensitive 
searching  vibrations,  known  as  waves  of  light  and 
sound,  so  dull,  that  it  should  feel  naught,  reveal 
naught,  when  the  angel  of  the  Lord  flashed  through 
the  stars  and  the  wind,  through  blossoming  woods 
or  bleak  snows  of  deserts,  and  into  the  haunts  and 
the  homes  of  men  ? 


298  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

So  many  had  come !  He  did  not  know  that 
they  were  alien  to  the  nineteenth  century,  and 
that  the  most  spiritual-minded  of  to-day  would 
account  for  their  sudden  vision  as  from  prosaic 
natural  causes,  —  as  mental  aberration,  or  the  dis 
tortions  of  a  diseased  fancy,  or  the  meaningless 
phantasmagoria  of  somnolent  cerebration.  To  him 
it  seemed  that  they  had  been  with  man  from  the 
very  beginning;  and  why  should  their  presence 
here  be  stranger  than  his  own  ?  Their  very  num 
bers  served  to  coerce  credibility.  So  many  had 
come !  To  kings,  to  wanderers  in  the  wilderness, 
to  prophets,  to  shepherds,  in  dreams  and  in  the 
broad  daylight,  they  came  :  to  stand  with  a  gleam 
ing  sword  before  the  gates  of  Paradise,  and  to 
sing  in  the  starry  advent  of  a  new  day,  —  On  earth 
peace,  good  will  toward  men  ;  to  bring  the  immor 
tal  lilies  of  the  Annunciation,  and  to  tread  the 
ways  of  the  fiery  furnace;  to  touch  the  bursting- 
bonds  of  saints  in  prison,  and  to  roll  away  the 
stone  from  the  sepulchre  of  all  the  world ;  to  min 
ister  to  the  Christ  alike  in  the  shadows  of  Geth- 
semane  and  amongst  the  splendors  of  the  Mount  of 
the  Transfiguration ! 

Larrabee  was  trembling  in  every  limb,  as  the 
scenes  trooped  out  before  him  in  the  vivid  actual 
ity  of  his  recollections  of  the  pages  of  the  much- 
thumbed  volume  which  he  had  left  behind  him 
when  he  had  fled  from  the  still  in  the  Lost  Time 
mine.  He  sank  down  upon  the  rocky  verge  of 
the  precipice,  amongst  the  clinging  verdure  of  its 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  299 

jagged  crevices.  Some  sweet-scented  herb  sent  out 
its  delicate  incense  under  the  pressure  of  his  hands. 
A  drowsy  twitter  of  half-awakened  nestlings  came 
from  the  feathery  boughs  of  a  cedar-tree  that  a 
niche  in  the  cliff  hard  by  half  nourished,  half 
starved.  The  melancholy  antiphony  of  the  voices 
of  the  wilderness  rose  and  fell  in  alternating 
strains,  and  at  long  intervals  in  a  vague  undis 
criminated  susurrus  the  night  seemed  to  sigh. 

He  heard  naught ;  he  heeded  naught.  His 
unwinking  gaze  was  fixed  upon  the  wondrous  star 
in  the  heavens,  with  that  thronging  association  of 
angelic  ministrants  so  definitely  in  his  mind  that  he 
might  have  thought  to  see  an  amaranthine  crown 
expanding  from  the  rayonnant  sidereal  points,  or 
the  outline  of  a  nearing  pinion  stretched  strongly 
to  cleave  the  ether.  For  so  many  had  come ! 

But  no !  His  imagination  could  compass  no 
such  apotheosis.  The  star  remained  a  star.  The 
exaltation  of  that  moment  of  wild,  vague,  and 
breathless  expectation  exhaled  slowly.  A  poi 
gnant  sense  of  loss  succeeded  it.  The  prosaic 
details  of  the  actual  outer  life  pressed  once  more 
on  his  realization.  He  looked  about  him  on  the 
sombre  wilderness,  the  black  surly  mountains,  the 
itinerant  mists,  heedless  whither,  the  steely  glim 
mer  here  and  there  of  the  ponds  where  the  water 
made  shift  to  catch  the  reflection  of  the  sky  amidst 
the  dun  shadows,  and  sighed  drearily  with  the 
sighing  night. 

He  was   penniless,  shelterless,    his   life   at   the 


300  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

mercy  of  any  chance  that  might  favor  his  crafty 
enemy,  his  confidence  betrayed  by  the  fugitive 
whom  he  had  succored,  his  liberty  endangered, 
already  a  criminal  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  —  an 
outcast,  in  truth,  within  a  league  of  his  home. 
From  the  nullity  of  the  begloomed  landscape  the 
glance  naturally  rebounded,  and  the  very  obscura 
tion  of  the  earth  lent  glister  and  defmiteness  to 
the  wonderful  precision  of  the  march  of  the  con 
stellations,  as,  phalanx  after  phalanx,  they  de 
ployed,  each  in  its  allotted  space  and  sequence, 
toward  the  west.  And  again  his  eyes  dwelt  upon 
that  new  splendor  in  the  midst  of  them.  How 
strange  that  it  should  suddenly  blossom  whitely 
forth  among  these  old,  old  stars  that  had  lighted 
the  bosky  ways  of  the  garden  of  Eden  !  How 
strange  that  the  sight  of  it  should  be  vouchsafed 
to  him  —  and  why  ! 

His  pulses  were  tumultuously  astir.  All  at 
once  the  thought  that  had  been  slowly  framing 
itself  in  his  mind  took  definite  form.  He  won 
dered  if  it  could  be  a  sign  for  him,  and  of  what ! 

In  the  arrogations  of  poor  humanity  of  the 
higher  things,  in  the  infinite  breadth  of  the  claim 
of  an  immortal  soul,  vast  incongruities  meet.  The 
extreme  might  seem  reached  in  the  ignorant  moun 
taineer,  the  moonshiner  obnoxious  to  the  law,  the 
poverty-stricken  laborer,  seeing  with  the  wild 
preemptions  of  fancy  this  star,  all  newly  and  mi 
raculously  alight  in  the  sky,  as  charged  with  some 
mysterious  relation  to  his  infinitesimally  petty  and 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  301 

restricted  life.  But  once  admit  the  idea  of  an 
immortal  spirit,  heir  of  all  knowledge,  made  a 
little  lower  than  the  angels,  to  be  crowned  with 
glory  and  honor,  the  climax  of  development,  and 
even  the  splendors  of  the  star  are  as  naught. 

Larrabee  had  no  cultivated  sense  of  comparison. 
His  tenacious  nature  laid  hold  upon  the  idea  of  an 
intimate  personal  intention,  a  sign  in  the  heavens, 
with  a  blunt  and  stalwart  appropriation. 

He  rose  swiftly  to  his  feet.  So  different  a  spirit 
animated  him  that  it  seemed  a  different  path  from 
that  which  he  had  trod  as  he  had  plodded  slowly 
up  the  mountain,  with  hesitating  steps  and  frequent 
uncertain  pauses.  Now  he  went  deftly  down  the 
rugged  and  far  darker  way,  brushing  amongst 
bushes  and  vines,  and  be-showered  with  the  per 
fumed  drops  that  his  hasty  transit  shook  from  their 
boughs ;  swiftly  slipping  through  the  shifting  mists 
that  now  hid  the  sky,  and  again  revealed  the  glister 
of  that  great  star  amidst  a  myriad  others  at  the 
vanishing  point  of  a  perspective  of  seemingly  pre 
cipitous  white  ascents,  as  the  uncertain  light  cleft 
the  glimmering  vapors.  He  looked  up  to  it,  as  it 
were,  through  a  defile  between  these  impalpable 
white  cliffs,  from  the  dark  abysses  of  the  night ; 
and  then  the  gauzy  medium  interposed,  and  with 
out  the  faint  light  of  the  stars  the  night  was  black 
again.  His  pace  did  not  slacken.  He  went  for 
ward  as  confidently  in  the  darkness  as  if  he  were 
led  by  the  definite  capacity  of  sight,  trusting  to  that 
instinct  of  woodcraft  almost  as  keen  as  sense  itself. 


302  HTS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  his  foot  struck  against  a  branch, 
torn  by  the  wind  from  the  trees  and  left  to  wither 
in  the  rugged  path ;  or  the  splash  of  a  pool  beneath 
his  inadvertent  step  broke  the  silence  of  his  journey, 
as  these  unaccustomed  incidents  of  the  way  asserted 
their  presence  as  obstacles.  He  never  hesitated, 
nor  doubted,  nor  deviated.  He  seemed  led  through 
the  darkness  by  his  will.  He  was  aware  in  some 
mysterious  sort  of  the  looming  propinquity  of  great 
trees  or  the  locality  of  ja'gged  rocks ;  he  avoided  the 
verge  of  cliffs  and  abysses  with  that  keen,  accurate 
discernment  of  an  unascertained  faculty,  as  a  som 
nambulist  might  have  done.  As  far  as  his  recognized 
intelligence  was  concerned,  he  was  down  in  the 
Cove  before  he  knew  it,  for  the  way  was  still  slop 
ing,  the  footing  rocky  and  uneven.  A  long  slant 
ing  burnished  gleam  of  orange  light  appearing  sud 
denly  before  him,  revealing  the  white  mists,  and 
making  the  darkness  a  definite  visible  blackness 
rather  than  merely  charged  with  a  sense  of  sightless 
ness,  he  deemed  only  one  of  those  transient  lines 
of  lightning  reflected  in  the  temporary  ponds  that 
he  had  marked  earlier  in  the  evening.  It  did  not 
flicker,  however,  and  die  away.  As  he  stared  for 
ward,  he  perceived,  beyond  a  darkly  lustrous  inter 
val,  a  parallel  line  of  yellow  brilliance,  —  another, 
and  still  another ;  and  he  became  aware  that  he  was 
amongst  the  workmen's  shanties,  the  lights  of  which 
were  mirrored  in  the  water.  Presently  illusory 
shimmering  squares  were  visible  in  the  mists  which 
marked  the  open  doors.  A  croaking  frog  by  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  303 

waterside  ceased  suddenly,  as,  with  more  decided 
step,  Larrabee  skirted  the  pool  and  approached. 
He  felt  rather  than  saw  the  shadowy  creature's  leap 
from  before  his  foot,  again  an  elastic  spring  along 
the  margin,  and  a  splash  as  the  frog  jumped  into 
the  water,  and  the  long  lines  of  gilded  light  were 
broken  into  a  thousand  concentric  shoaling  curves. 
Voices  sounded  close  at  hand,  and  then  the  whole 
little  settlement,  became  vaguely  visible,  —  the  cab 
ins  further  apart  than  they  had  seemed  at  the  dis 
tance  ;  a  banjo  was  strumming  at  the  most  remote, 
and  as  Larrabee  walked  up  to  the  nearest,  boldly, 
in  the  avenue  of  light  that  the  open  door  blazed  out 
in  the  darkness,  he  saw  within  the  man  whom  he 
sought,  bending  his  frowning  brow  over  a  paper  in 
his  hand.  In  the  other  hand  Kenniston  held  a  cigar, 
which  at  long  intervals  he  put  between  his  lips ; 
then  he  pulled  energetically  at  it  as  if  merely  to 
keep  it  alight,  and  with  no  definite  experience  or 
expectation  of  nicotian  solace.  The  county  sur 
veyor,  on  the  contrary,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table,  puffed  his  pipe  systematically,  his  eyes  half 
closed,  his  grizzled  bearded  face  showing  in  repose 
amongst  the  wreaths  of  smoke,  his  conscience  dis 
charged  of  every  detail  of  the  great  science  of  men 
suration  which  he  sought  to  apply  to  the  various 
parcels  of  land  owned  or  claimed  by  his  fellow-man. 
He  had  answered  so  much  at  random  the  occasional 
remarks  of  his  host  on  the  subject  of  the  proces 
sioning  that  it  became  very  apparent  to  Kenniston 
that  he  did  not  propose  to  work  at  his  vocation  out 


304  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

of  office  hours,  as  it  were.  From  the  consideration 
of  futility  as  well  as  decorum,  Kenniston  had  re 
lapsed  into  silently  comparing  the  calls  of  the  deed 
with  the  notes  he  had  made  of  the  day's  work,  and 
only  unconsciously  did  an  interjection  of  irritation 
and  disgust  escape  him. 

"  I  ain't  responsible  for  any  disputed  p'int,  Mr. 
Kenniston,"  said  the  surveyor,  sibilantly  sucking 
his  pipestem,  his  eyes  quite  closed,  his  feet  upon 
the  fender  of  the  little  stove.  "  Ye  kin  hev  a  jury 
o'  good  and  lawful  men  ter  examinate  an'  decide 
upon  it ;  my  business  is  ter  run  the  line  'cordin' 
ter  the  calls  an'  the  compass.  That 's  all !  " 

Kenniston  looked  up,  a  sarcastic  comment  in  his 
eyes ;  the  mere  possibility  of  submitting  the  ques 
tion  of  the  boundary  of  his  land  to  the  wild  will  of 
a  jury  of  mountaineers,  qualified  by  the  surveyor, 
according  to  the  law  of  processioning  land,  and  met 
in  those  tangled  precipitous  woods  to  discriminate 
in  matters  mathematical  and  to  settle  questions  of 
topographical  fact,  seemed  to  him  so  happy  a  trav 
esty  of  the  theory  of  law  and  justice  that  he  could 
not  forbear  a  scornful  smile  at  his  own  probable 
plight  when  he  should  come  forth  from  such  unique 
adjudication  of  his  interests. 

"  There  's  no  disputed  'p'intj  "  he  said,  laughing 
satirically.  "  It 's  the  whole  confounded  line  from 
the  Big  Hollow  Boulder  to  Wild  Duck  Falls !  " 

"  'Cordin'  ter  the  calls  an'  the  compass,"  muttered 
the  surveyor,  fast  succumbing  to  the  unholy  fascina 
tions  of  a  dream  in  which  he  found  that  in  seeking 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  305 

to  ascertain  the  area  of  a  triangular  body  of  land 
he  achieved  the  petrifying  result  of  transforming  it 
to  a  square.  Reason  revolted ;  he  woke  with  a  snort, 
filliped  off  the  ash  from  his  pipe,  adjusted  himself 
anew  in  his  chair,  looked  very  wide  awake,  to  be 
overtaken  again  by  the  same  irreconcilable  process 
and  result. 

In  the  diversion  of  Kenniston's  attention  he  had 
lost  the  run  of  his  ideas ;  he  paused,  puffed  his 
cigar  into  a  glow,  pushed  his  chair  slightly  back 
from  the  table,  glanced  with  lowering  disaffection 
at  the  slumbering  surveyor,  and  then  mechanically 
about  him  at  his  surroundings. 

The  house  was  the  roughest  of  shells,  and  hardly 
compact  enough  to  withstand  the  floods  of  rain  that 
had  descended  upon  it  to-day.  In  one  corner  the 
floor  was  still  damp,  the  eaves  outside  dripped.  Be 
yond  a  cot,  a  table,  and  a  few  chairs  there  was  no 
furniture  save  Kenniston's  valise,  his  gun  in  its 
case,  which  was  never  opened,  and  a  monkey  stove, 
an  object  of  aversion  to  its  aesthetic  owner ;  for, 
despite  its  utility,  its  outline  and  atmosphere  were 
a  continual  affront  to  him,  and  it  suffered  grossly 
from  the  comparison  with  the  great  open  fires  of  the 
mountaineers'  hearths,  the  incense  of  hickory  and 
ash  and  pine,  the  flash  and  flame  and  sparkle  of 
those  humble  illumined  interiors. 

The  shadowy  figure  of  a  man  standing  in  the 
doorway  Kenniston  did  not  immediately  notice. 
Beyond  a  slight  start,  a  mere  matter  of  nerve  (for 
he  could  hardly  be  surprised  by  aught  that  the 


306  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

mountaineers  could  say  or  do),  he  did  not  betray 
the  unexpectedness  of  the  apparition.  He  smoked 
silently,  eying  the  intruder  without  salutation,  as 
if  he  sought  to  shift  the  discourtesy  of  the  lack  of 
formality  upon  one  who  merely  paused  at  the  door 
of  his  domicile  and  surveyed  its  occupant ;  it  was 
his  rule  not  to  encourage  the  mountaineers  to  come 
about,  and  he  felt  at  liberty,  with  so  untutored  a 
folk,  to  depart  from  the  decrees  of  decorum  in  such 
small  matters,  which  were,  however,  exigent  even 
with  them.  In  this  instance  no  offense  seemed  to 
be  taken,  no  intentional  lack  perceived.  Larrabee 
stood,  his  smiling  dark  eyes  scanning  Kenniston 
with  a  steadiness  which  apparently  had  other  actu 
ation  than  mere  curiosity,  his  pale  clear-cut  face,  his 
auburn  hair,  his  alert  strong  pose,  distinct  in  the 
crude  white  light  of  the  unshaded  kerosene  lamp. 
Whether  it  were  the  natural  commendation  of  a 
face  and  figure  regularly  handsome  by  the  line  and 
rule  by  which  K&nniston  was  wont  to  apportion 
beauty ;  whether  the  exaltation  of  the  discovery  of 
the  star,  the  spiritual  audacity  of  the  arrogation 
of  a  personal  intimation  in  its  .manifestation,  had 
touched  Larrabee's  expression  with  something 
strange,  something  aloof  from  the  day,  the  time, 
and  the  people,  Kenniston's  jaded  interest  was 
stirred. 

"  Did  you  want  to  see  me  ?  "  he  demanded,  at 
length.  "  Then  come  in." 

Larrabee  remained  at  the  threshold,  but  he 
leaned  against  the  wall,  his  big  brown  hat  on  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  307 

back  of  his  head,  as  it  rested  against  the  rich 
veined  amber  and  creamy  tints  of  the  yellow  pine 
wood. 

"  Air  you-uns  the  stranger-man  ez  hev  been 
hyarabouts,  buildin'  the  hotel  an'  sech  ?  "  he  asked 
slowly. 

Kenniston's  eye  became  intent,  hardening  as  he 
nodded.  His  thoughts  flew  instantly  to  that  fair 
edifice  and  the  collapse  of  all  his  plans,  with  the 
quick  inference  that  here  was  information  to  come 
touching  the  incendiary.  He  felt  his  blood  leap ; 
by  his  pulsing  veins  he  knew  how  it  was  burning 
into  his  face.  He  had  that  desire  toward  justice 
which  should  animate  every  civilized  man,  but 
although  he  sought  to  hold  himself  impartial,  calm, 
circumspect  to  receive  what  might  be  a  false  ac 
cusation,  it  would  have  fared  ill  with  Larrabee's 
enemy  had  he  an  old  score  to  settle  thus. 

As  he  remained  silent  Kenniston  spoke,  with  a 
view  of  urging  forward  the  disclosure.  "  Have  I 
ever  seen  you  here  before  ?  " 

Larrabee  shook  his  head.  "  I  hev  never  viewed 
you-uns  ez  I  knows  on."  Then,  after  a  pause, 
"  Air  you-uns  a  book-1'arned  man  ?  " 

"  Reasonably  so,"  Kenniston  said,  with  a  slight 
laugh.  He  leaned  his  elbows  on  the  table,  hold 
ing  his  chin  in  his  hand,  which  was  half  obscured 
by  his  full  beard,  and  while  he  looked  impatiently 
at  his  visitor  his  white  teeth  gnawed  his  underlip. 

Larrabee  hesitated.  "  Hev  ye  met  up  with  the 
stars  in  yer  readin'  ?  "  he  finally  blurted  out. 


308  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

A  sudden  look  of  blank  disappointment  crossed 
Kenniston's  face. 

"  Stars  !  "  he  echoed  in  dismay.  "  Why,  I 
thought  you  had  come  to  give  me  some  informa 
tion  about  the  cur  that  set  fire  to  my  house." 

(It  was  a  different  kind  of  brute,  but  the  fact 
of  Bruin's  agency  was  relegated  to  the  state  of 
things  not  revealed,  which  we  denominate  mys 
tery.) 

It  was  Larrabee's  turn  for  impatience,  and  an 
affronted  sense  of  interruption. 

"  I  dunno  nuthin'  'bout  who  burnt  yer  hotel "  — 
He  paused  suddenly,  the  conviction  all  at  once 
fully  fledged  in  his  mind  that  it  was  the  deed  of 
the  moonshiners,  to  rid  the  Cove  of  its  prospect  of 
troublesome  invaders.  The  recollection  of  Espey's 
threat  rang  in  his  ears  as  if  the  very  vibrations 
of  the  words  were  audible  upon  the  air :  "  Burn 
him  out !  Burn  his  shanty  every  time  he  gits  it 
started !  " 

Larrabee  suffered  the  sense  of  a  nervous  shock, 
so  great  was  the  revulsion  from  the  subject  that 
had  engrossed  him  ;  for  this  reminiscence  of  all 
things  he  had  least  expected  to  meet  here.  He 
could  hardly  cope  with  it  in  the  free  outer  air.  It 
belonged  so  essentially  to  that  other  life  of  his, 
that  underground  world  where  he  bore  so  different 
an  identity,  that  it  seemed  to  have  thoughts  and 
intentions  and  a  conscience  peculiar  to  itself.  He 
had  realized  the  dangers  of  the  isolation  in  which 
he  stood  amongst  those  of  his  association,  but  he 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  309 

had  thought  himself  safe  here.  Kenniston  knew 
him  neither  by  name  nor  face,  and  he  was  a 
stranger  to  all  the  workmen  ;  since  their  advent 
into  the  Cove  he  had  been  held  a  prisoner  in  the 
Lost  Time  mine.  Even  a  chance  encounter  with 
Rodolphus  Ross  he  did  not  dread,  for  the  officer 
had  not  been  apprised  of  his  identity  on  the  night 
he  had  summoned  him  to  search  for  the  escaped 
Espey  masquerading  under  the  name  of  Larrabee. 
The  abrupt  pause,  the  introverted  look,  the  sud 
den  recollection  advertised  in  unmistakable  char 
acters  upon  his  unguarded  face,  did  not  escape 
Kenniston's  observation,  now  keen  and  all  on  the 
alert.  For  his  heart  was  in  this  reprisal.  If  he  had 
had  naught  to  gain  and  much  to  risk,  indeed  much 
of  certain  loss,  he  would  have  pursued  this  injury 
to  its  ultimate  and  bitterest  requital.  All  that  was 
manly  in  him  —  his  courage,  his  pugnacity,  his  te- 
naciousness,  his  self-respect,  his  vehement,  insistent, 
vigorous  personality,  that  could  neither  make  nor 
keep  covenant  with  concession,  compromise,  or  de 
feat  —  rose  to  the  occasion.  He  had  cursed  in  his 
heart  the  lukewarmiiess  of  the  authorities,  who  had 
opined  that  the  mountaineers  were  mighty  rough 
folks,  mighty  hard  to  catch,  lived  in  a  mighty  diffi 
cult  country,  and  who  had  offered  him  the  half- 
veiled  advice  that  they  were  mighty  bad  to  run 
against,  in  lieu  of  the  formulated  and  disciplined 
suspicions  which  he  had  expected,  the  canvassing  of 
possible  "  fire-bugs,"  involving  as  sequence  war 
rants  for  arrest,  indictments,  and  other  fierce  and 


310  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

formidable  engines  of  the  law,  set  to  work  with 
full  intent  and  expectation. 

Here  was  a  clue,  —  the  first ;  and  fortunately  it 
had  fallen  into  his  own  hands.  However,  it  be 
hooved  him  to  be  cautious,  or  the  suggestion  might 
be  of  as  little  ultimate  value  as  if  it  were  already 
given  to  the  turbulent,  ill-advised,  precipitate  dep 
uty,  or  to  his  unsanguine,  dubious,  dilatory  princi 
pal,  with  his  wise  saws  about  the  lack  of  prudence 
involved  in  running  against  mountain  folks,  who 
were  mighty  hard  to  catch  in  the  wilds  of  their 
difficult  country. 

Now  and  again  the  family  of  Cap'n  Lucy  had 
had  an  intimation  of  how  pleasant  Mr.  Kenniston 
could  be  when  he  chose.  It  was  reserved  for  Jasper 
Larrabee  to  experience  the  fascination  of  the  full 
and  ripened  flavor,  the  bouquet,  so  to  speak,  of  his 
geniality  and  good  will.  A  second  rapid  covert 
survey  from  that  altered  point  of  view  which  one 
is  apt  to  adopt  when  a  personal  interest  looms  in 
the  background  convinced  Kenniston  that  his  vis 
itor  was  no  fool.  Although  he  intended  to  drop 
the  subject  for  the  present,  he  did  not  quit  it  ab 
ruptly. 

"  I  was  in  hopes  you  could  name  some  suspicious 
characters,  or  had  heard  some  threatening  talk, 
or"  — 

Once  more  he  saw  from  his  visitor's  face  that, 
inadvertently,  he  had  again  struck  the  nail  on  the 
head.  His  secret  self-applause  aided  his  self-denial 
in  relinquishing  so  promising  a  line  of  investiga- 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  311 

tion.  The  man  must  be  made  to  talk  freely,  to  dis 
close  ;  his  confidence  must  be  secured. 

"  I  have  had  heavy  losses  in  this  matter,  and  the 
officers  seem  of  mighty  little  account.  Every  now 
and  then  I  hope  I  '11  hear  of  something  some  other 
way.  I  'm  afraid  to  build  again  unless  I  know  the 
fire-bug  is  somewhere  else,  or  discbver  what  I  've 
done  to  set  people  against  me." 

Larrabee's  face  was  at  once  softened  and  trou 
bled.  "  Burn  his  shanty  every  time  he  gits  it 
started,"  quoth  Espey.  And  he  that  would  work 
ill  to  one  man  would  work  ill  to  another :  witness 
his  own  plight.  His  conscience  began  to  stir.  If, 
he  thought,  the  whiskey  tax  were  not  in  itself  so 
tyrannical,  so  impracticable  and  obnoxious  a  thing, 
he  might  have  admitted  for  the  nonce  that  moon- 
shining  was  in  itself  wrong. 

Kenniston's  eyes  were  studying  his  unconscious 
countenance.  "  Well,"  he  said  suddenly,  "  since 
it 's  nothing  about  my  affairs,  what  can  I  do  for 
you  ?  Won't  you  have  a  chair  ?  " 

Larrabee  shook  his  head  silently.  He  stood  for 
a  few  moments  undecided.  It  might  seem  that  his 
enthusiasm,  so  ruthlessly  dragged  down  to  earth, 
might  hardly  make  shift  to  rise  again ;  but  it  was 
strong  of  wing,  as  behooves  that  ethereal  essence,  and 
in  his  ignorant  assumptions  he  thought  that  he  had 
seen  a  sign  in  the  heavens,  a  sign  for  him.  The 
fervor  of  all  that  he  had  half  doubting  believed,  and 
half  believing  doubted,  fired  his  pulses  once  more. 
He  cared  naught  for  Espey  and  his  troublous  usur- 


312  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

pations,  tiie  officer  of  the  law,  the  moonshiner  and 
his  deadly  feud,  the  incendiary,  the  necessity  of  heed 
to  his  words.  He  cared  for  naught  under  the  moon. 
Once  more  his  face  had  that  illumined,  exalted  ex 
pression.  As  he  leaned  suddenly  forward,  with  a 
keen  anxiety,  and  said,  "  Air  ye  'quainted  with  the 
stars  by  name,  bein'  a  book-1'arned  man  ?  "  Kennis- 
ton  had  a  swift  doubt  of  his  sanity. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.  And  after  a  pause  he  asked 
the  counter-question,  "  Are  you  interested  in  the 
stars  ?  " 

But  Larrabee,  still  under  the  influence  of  the 
strong  excitement  that  possessed  him,  did  not  answer 
directly. 

"  I  kin  read,  but  I  hain't  got  but  one  book.  The 
teacher  what  1'arned  me  ter  read  'lowed  ez  the  stars 
air  named  ;  they  air  numbered  in  a  book.  Hev  ye 
Famed  sech?  " 

"  Oh  yes  ;  I  have  studied  astronomy,"  replied 
Kenniston  capably.  "  I  know  their  names." 

"  I  know  them  ;  I  dunno  thar  names,"  said  Lar 
rabee,  making  a  definite  distinction.  "  That 's  the 
reason  I  kem  ter  you-uns,  hearin'  ez  ye  air  a  book- 
1'arned  man." 

He  turned  his  head  and  looked  out  into  the  night 
as  he  stood  on  the  threshold.  The  mists  had  gone 
their  ways.  The  clouds  were  far  in  the  west.  Above 
all,  the  clear,  sombre  field  of  the  sky  was  thickly 
bespangled  with  stars,  chill,  keenly  glittering,  for 
below  the  night  was  very  dark. 

"  Thar's  a  new  one,"  he  declared  excitedly,  "  a 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  313 

new  one  never  viewed  afore  !  I  seen  it  kindle  up 
a  matter  of  three  week  ago,  three  week  an'  better, 
an'  it 's  thar  now  !  " 

Kenniston  sat  in  silent  amazement,  looking  stead 
ily  at  him. 

"  Kem  out ! "  Larrabee  insisted,  in  tones  strangely 
urgent.  "  Kem  out  an'  see  !  " 

Some  subtle  monition  apprised  Kenniston  that 
there  was  something  in  the  man's  disclosure  with 
held  ;  that  it  was  not  merely  to  bring  his  book-learn 
ing  to  bear  upon  the  array  of  the  stars  that  he  was 
asked  to  step  out  of  his  door  at  this  hour  of  the 
night.  How  often  he  had  heard,  as  the  climax  of 
a  feud,  of  a  man  in  these  mountains  being  sum 
moned  on  some  pretext  out  of  his  door  to  meet  a 
murderous  bullet  fired  by  an  enemy  hidden  in  the 
dark !  He  was  momentarily  ashamed  of  this  recol 
lection  as  he  glanced  at  the  surveyor  asleep  close  at 
hand ;  as  he  heard  the  rhythmic  beat  of  feet  on  the 
shaking,  ill-laid  floor,  and  the  patting  of  hands  as 
some  jovial  young  blade  danced  a  "  break-down  "  in 
one  of  the  workmen's  shanties  to  the  strumming  of 
the  banjo,  finding  this  far  more  congenial  an  oc 
cupation  than  shoving  the  jack  plane. 

Nevertheless,  he  had  enemies,  virulent,  unscrupu 
lous,  powerful,  as  his  short  stay  here  might  seem  to 
attest,  and  what  strange,  fantastic  vagary  was  this 
touching  a  new  star !  He  would  not  refuse ;  that 
would  impugn  his  courage  even  to  himself,  and  he 
held  it  dear ;  and  as  he  looked  at  Larrabee's  face 
with  its  ever-smiling  eyes,  despite  the  intimation  of 


314  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

something  withheld,  of  trafficking  with  a  mere  sub 
terfuge,  he  doubted  as  causeless  his  prudence.  More 
over,  this  was  a  man  of  whom  he  must  keep  track, 
of  whom  he  must  know  more.  He  was  looking 
about  the  room  as  he  rose.  "  Wait  a  minute,"  he 
said.  "  I  have  a  strong  glass  here  that  may  be  of 
use." 

The  door  of  the  maligned  monkey  stove  standing 
ajar  emitted  a  ruddy  glow  of  embers  upon  the  yel 
low  pine  walls  of  the  room,  and  toned  down  the 
white  glare  of  the  kerosene  lamp.  A  deep,  restful 
red  hue  might  have  attracted  the  eye  from  the  far 
ther  side  amongst  the  shadows,  as  Kenniston  tossed 
a  rug  aside  upon  a  chair  to  obscure  a  quick  search 
through  his  valise.  A  pernicious  habit,  that  of 
carrying  his  pistols  at  the  bottom  of  his  luggage, 
amongst  his  clean  shirts,  and  he  promised  himself 
this  should  be  the  end  of  it.  At  the  moment  that 
he  thrust  the  revolver  into  his  pistol-pocket  he 
picked  up  the  field-glass  from  the  cot.  "  Here  it 
is,"  he  said,  and  he  followed  his  guest  out  of  the 
door  and  into  the  dusky  night. 

It  was  still  all  vibrant  with  the  twanging  drone 
of  *  the  cicada  and  the  windy  note  of  the  booming 
frogs.  The  air,  damp  and  of  clarified  freshness, 
was  pervaded  with  indeterminate  fragrance,  the 
blent  perfume  of  some  flower  and  the  pungent  aroma 
of  weed  and  shrub  and  the  balsamic  fir.  A  cluster 
of  great  trees  rose  just  outside  of  the  little  shell, 
and  though  many  a  star  shone  down  in  the  inter 
stices  of  the  black  fibrous  foliage,  Larrabee  led  the 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  315 

way  out  beyond  them  and  into  an  open  space.  It 
was  nearer  the  other  cottages  instead  of  farther 
away,  as  Kenniston  had  half  expected.  The  suspi 
cion,  the  half -dormant  fear,  the  doubt  in  his  mind, 
were  giving  place  anew  to  his  determination  to  keep 
his  hand  on  this  man,  to  win  his  confidence  or  to 
surprise  his  secret.  All  those  genial  arts  of  ingra- 
tiation  at  his  command  were  once  more  brought 
into  play.  It  was  he  who  introduced  the  subject 
of  their  mission,  as  they  paused  on  a  slight  eminence, 
with  a  clear  view  of  the  great  fields  of  heaven  before 
them. 

"  Now  which  is  the  star  that  you  want  to  know 
more  about?  "  he  demanded,  lifting  the  glass  with 
a  free  gesture,  and  adjusting  it  to  his  eye. 

"  Don't  ye  see  nuthin'  oncommon  ? "  the  moun 
taineer  asked,  in  a  tense  voice. 

The  strained  tone  struck  Kenniston's  attention, 
and  he  lowered  the  glass  and  looked  through  the 
baffling  darkness  at  his  companion,  whose  form  could 
only  be  discriminated  by  some  fine  sense  from  the 
surrounding  darkness  by  an  effect  of  solidity,  given 
one  could  hardly  say  how. 

Kenniston,  the  glass  swaying  useless  in  his  hand, 
gazed  upward  once  more. 

"  No,  I  can't  say  I  do,"  he  replied  wonderingly. 

Larrabee  suddenly  came  up  close  to  him,  taking 
him  by  the  arm. 

"  Now,  hyar,  todes  the  east,  an'  yit  a  leetle  todes 
the  north,  sorter  slanchwise  todes  Big  Injun  Mount 
ing,  setting  a  mite  ter  the  west  from  that,  an'  plumb 


316  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

west  from  Chilhowee,  a  bright,  bright  star,  —  with," 
he  added,  in  a  surprised  tone,  as  if  he  had  not  before 
discerned  this,  "  a  sorter  silver  shine  onto  it." 

Kenniston  laughed  slyly  in  his  sleeve.  One  can 
hardly  better  appreciate  the  immense  distance  that 
mechanical  appliance  has  brought  man  from  his 
normal  state  of  natural,  unassisted  faculties  than 
in  the  effort  to  point  out,  with  such  accuracy  as  to 
enable  another  to  distinguish,  an  object  in  those 
fair  and  foreign  fields  of  heaven,  by  the  unaided 
means  of  the  index  finger.  A  suffusion  of  self- 
gratulatory  pride  is  apt  to  overspread  the  conscious 
ness,  the  unit  assuming  the  credit  of  all  that  the 
genius  of  invention  has  achieved  in  the  generic 
name  of  mankind.  Kenniston  had  not  even  a 
slight  expectation  of  being  able  to  distinguish  the 
particular  star,  but  the  affectation  of  effort,  in  his 
own  interests,  in  some  sort  constrained  his  will. 
He  looked  about  the  skies  with  that  vague  sense 
of  recollection  which  animates  one  who  turns  the 
leaves  of  a  volume  written  in  a  half -forgotten  lan 
guage.  He  had  not  been  the  familiar  of  the  stars. 
His  choicest  ambitions  had  lifted  him  no  further 
than  a  reasonably  safe  height  for  an  attic,  or  those 
fantastic  simulations  of  turrets,  with  which  the  new 
architecture  apes  haud  passibus  cequis  the  old. 
He  had  naught  in  common  with  the  full-pulsed 
aspiring  audacity  of  those  architects  of  eld  who 
builded  in  the  plain  of  Shinar ;  his  was  but  a  low- 
studded  Babel.  He  had  not  cared  for  a  higher 
outlook,  and  his  building  had  no  definite  designs 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  317 

touching  heaven.  It  had  been  so  long  since  he 
had  regarded  the  upper  atmosphere  other  than 
barometrically  that  he  hardly  made  shift  to  see  the 
Swan  arch  her  snowy  neck  from  those  great  lakes 
of  ether,  whose  indented  shores  seemed  marked 
and  foliage-fringed  by  the  wooded  summits  of  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains.  The  assertive  brilliance 
of  Lyra  he  noted  near  the  meridian,  with  the  harp- 
strings  all  vibrant,  doubtless,  with  that  music  of  the 
spheres  which  we  are  told  by  the  scientist  is  no 
longer  a  mere  figment  of  poesy.  The  Cor  Caroli 
gleamed  pure  and  splendid  amongst  the  mists  of  a 
struggling  recollection.  And  where  was  Scorpio  ? 
—  how  low  in  the  sky,  how  far  to  the  southwest, 
how  near  to  its  setting !  Through  a  water-gap  of 
Chilhowee,  cloven  to  the  very  heart  of  the  range, 
he  marked  the  gleaming  coils.  Of  strangely  mel 
ancholy  intimations  were  the  stars,  seen  so  far 
through  the  steep  wooded  defile,  dark  and  rugged 
on  either  hand  ;  but  he  only  remembered  the  rela 
tion  of  its  early  setting  and  the  season,  for  it  was 
near  the  end  of  September.  How  little  building 
weather  the  year  might  spare  him  yet !  How 
heavy  the  rains  of  to-day,  and  the  west  still  har 
bored  portents!  Unless  he  relinquished  all  and 
left  the  field,  baffled  and  beaten,  he  must  have  the 
incendiary  behind  the  bars.  To  jail  a  suspect,  at 
all  events,  would  intimidate  the  lawless  population, 
and  point  the  moral  of  "  Hands  off !  " 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  he  said,  reverting  to  the  prose 
cution  of  his  intention  to  win    the  mountaineer's 


318  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

secret  information  as  to  the  origin  of  the  fire. 
"  I  'm  sorry  I  can't  see  it,  Mr.  —  Excuse  me, 
what  did  you  say  your  name  is  ?  " 

His  visitor  had  not  said,  but  all  thrown  off  his 
guard  the  young  man  replied  promptly,  "  Lar'bee, 
—  Jasper  Lar'bee.  Ef  ye  look  jes'  a  leetle  ter  the 
right  of  that  thar  batch  o'  stars  ez  'pears  some 
similar  ter  a  ky art-wheel  "  —  He  raised  once  more 
the  futile  inefficiency  of  his  index  finger. 

But  Kenniston  was  not  looking.  This  name,  — 
he  placed  it  at  once.  In  the  short  interview  which 
he  had  had  with  the  deputy  sheriff  touching  the 
incendiary,  without  whose  apprehension  he  feared 
to  recommence  the  building,  it  had  recurred  re 
peatedly  to  Rodolphus  Ross's  lips  coupled  with 
many  an  imprecation.  Kenniston  had  paid  scant 
heed  at  the  time  to  the  story  of  the  search  for  Es- 
pey,  of  the  pretended  arrest,  of  the  escape  of  the 
supposed  Larrabee  and  the  inference  of  some  crime 
which  his  flight  fostered.  It  had  all  happened  dur- 
ring  his  absence  from  the  Cove,  and  shortly  before 
the  beginning  of  the  building  of  the  hotel.  He 
could  not  conceive  of  any  reasons  for  connecting 
one  with  the  other  ;  but  this  man  indubitably  knew 
something  of  the  crime  ;  his  long  and  mysterious 
disappearance  had  baffled  all  the  devices  of  the 
officers,  and  surely  it  was  a  strange  subterfuge 
which  had  brought  him  hither.  Strange  to  the 
minds  of  others  as  well,  for  sundry  figures  were 
detached  now  and  again  from  the  illumined  thresh 
olds  near  at  hand ;  presently  the  foreman  had 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  319 

joined  the  two,  and  several  of  the  workmen  ap 
proached,  all  pausing  at  intervals  and  craning 
their  necks  up  toward  the  sky,  having  noticed  the 
intent  scrutiny  of  it,  and  expectant  of  some  lusus 
naturce,  —  comet,  or  aurora  borealis,  or  other  phe 
nomenon,  —  the  observation  of  which  might  serve 
to  break  the  monotony.  The  resonant  tone  of  the 
banjo  now  and  again  Bounded  loud  in  the  damp 
air,  as  the  musician  who  carried  it  under  his  arm 
jostled  against  one  of  the  other  men.  Their  atti 
tudes  and  faces  expressed  an  alert  curiosity,  for 
they  were  not  altogether  indistinguishable,  the  two 
star-gazers  having  insensibly  changed  their  posi 
tions,  and  come  within  the  line  of  light  falling  from 
one  of  the  open  doors. 

"  Some  ter  the  right  o'  that  batch  o'  stars  ez  be 
some  similar  ter  a  ky art-wheel,"  repeated  Larrabee 
urgently. 

"  I  don't  know  which  you  mean,"  replied  Kennis- 
ton,  drawing  himself  back  to  the  subject  with  diffi 
culty. 

"  Don't  ye  view  one  ez  ye  never  viewed  afore  ?  " 
demanded  Jasper  breathlessly.  "  Ef  ye  know  'em, 
ye  air  'bleeged  ter  see  that  thar  one  air  strange  !  " 

"  Mr.  Jackson,"  -  —  Kenniston  turned  to  the  fore 
man,  —  "  do  you  see  anything  unusual  in  that 
sky?" 

The  foreman  answered  with  a  prompt  and  busi 
ness-like  negative,  and  then  appealed  in  turn  to 
one  of  the  workmen.  None  of  them  could  per 
ceive  aught  amiss,  although  they  all  turned  about 


320  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

and  critically  surveyed  the  majesty  of  the  heav 
ens. 

"  It 's  a  new  star,"  protested  Larrabee,  uncon 
sciously  adopting  the  scientific  term  of  description. 
"I  seen  it  kindle  up  myself  'bout  three  weeks 
ago." 

There  was  an  astounded  silence ;  then  a  resonance 
broke  out  abruptly  as  the  young  musician  smote  his 
bullet  head  with  the  banjo,  apparently  inadver 
tently,  but  with  the  view  of  intimating  to  his  fel 
lows  that  all  was  not  accurately  adjusted  in  the 
cranium  of  their  queer  visitor. 

Kenniston  hesitated  for  a  moment.  There  lay  in 
his  mind  the  residuum,  so  to  speak,  of  an  impres 
sion  that  new  stars  or  temporary  stars  are  not  of 
infrequent  occurrence  in  the  economy  of  worlds, 
rating  time  by  the  long  astral  lengths.  He  could 
not  say  at  once,  —  such  scant  commerce  he  had  had 
with  the  stars  of  late  years,  to  be  sure !  His  mind 
had  reverted  instantly  to  the  question  upon  what 
pretext  he  should  seek  to  detain  the  man.  He  only 
saw  rather  than  noted  the  workmen  slowly  turning 
aside,  the  long  lane  of  yellow  light  streaming  through 
the  door,  the  lustrous  mirror-like  suggestions  in  the 
darkness  hard  by  where  the  pools  lurked  and  the 
frogs  were  still  croaking,  the  outlines  of  the  cluster 
ing  roofs  of  the  other  little  buildings,  shadowy  in 
the  deeper  shadow,  the  dense  woods  surrounding 
all,  and  above  the  great  amphitheatre  of  the  moun 
tains  on  every  side.  The  voice  of  the  foreman  re 
called  him :  — 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  321 

"  That 's  a  queer  customer.  First  crank  I  've 
seen  here." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  cried  Kenniston,  with  a  start, 
the  freedom  of  the  criticism  notifying  him  of  the 
absence  of  its  subject.  "  Stop  him  !  Call  him ! 
Hold  on  to  him  !  " 

But  the  effort  was  vain.  Larrabee  had  departed 
as  suddenly,  as  tracklessly,  as  if  the  night  had  swal 
lowed  him  up. 


XVII. 

IT  was  a  buoyant,  elated  spirit  that  Jasper  Lar- 
rabee  bore  as  he  slipped  swiftly  away  through  the 
darkness  and  the  woods,  unaware  of  the  sudden 
vehement  search  for  him,  unhearing  the  hue  and 
cry.  He  had  put  his  discovery  to  the  test,  —  the 
most  searching  that  he  could  devise.  And  not  the 
man  learned  in  letters,  who  even  knew  the  stars  by 
name,  not  the  clear-headed,  prosperous,  efficient 
foreman,  not  the  humbler  handicraftsmen,  could 
see  that  gracious,  splendid  stellular  presence  still 
shining,  —  shining  down  into  the  wilderness,  doubt 
less  with  some  message,  some  token,  some  personal 
relation,  that  would  be  in  due  season  made  known. 
He  had  no  uncertainties  ;  he  had  said  to  himself 
that  if  it  were  invisible  to  others  he  would  accept 
it  as  a  revelation  to  himself.  For  had  he  not  seen 
it  even  as  it  first  kindled  in  the  blank  spaces  of  the 
midnight  sky  ? 

He  felt  with  a  sort  of  surprise  that  his  limbs 
were  trembling  as  he  went,  his  breath  was  short ; 
more  than  once  he  paused,  with  a  reeling  sense  as 
if  he  should  fall,  and  he  beheld  the  summit  line 
of  demarkation  where  the  dark  woods  touched  the 
clear  sky  describe  a  long  curve  upward,  and  once 
more  sink  to  its  place.  He  had  not  known  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  323 

physical  exhaustion  that  ensues  upon  strong  and 
long-continued  mental  excitement.  Beyond  the 
moment's  impatient  realization  he  gave  it  no  heed. 
He  was  glad,  glad  beyond  all  power  of  analysis, 
expectant,  breathless,  his  eyes  continually  fixed 
upon  the  star,  unmindful  whither  his  failing  feet 
carried  him.  He  passed  without  a  thought  the 
door  of  the  store  of  the  Lost  Time  mine,  from 
which  so  lately  he  had  escaped  as  it  were  with  his 
life  in  his  hand.  He  might  have  seen,  if  he  had 
chosen,  the  twinkle  of  Cornelia  Taft's  fire  through 
the  chinking,  as  she  nodded  on  the  hearth  and 
vainly  waited  for  her  father's  return  to  supper. 
He  heard  naught,  —  no  voice  from  the  woods,  no 
stir  of  leaf,  no  sigh  of  wind,  no  lapsing  of  the 
alien  sheets  of  water,  not  even  the  full  rush  of  the 
stream  from  the  portal  of  the  Lost  Time  mine, 
loud,  sinister,  seemingly  charged  with  cavernous 
echoes  from  those  hidden  haunted  recesses  whence 
it  came,  wild,  turbulent,  with  thrice  its  normal 
volume  hurling  out  into  the  black  night.  Only 
once  he  paused.  The  unseen  air  and  the  invisible 
moisture  were  at  their  jugglery  again,  weaving 
from  nothingness  wondrous  symmetries  of  scrolls 
tenuous  to  the  eye,  marvelous  winged  suggestions 
endowed  with  the  faculty, of  flight  and  airy  poise, 
graces  of  fabric,  tissues,  fold  on  fold  of  impalpa 
ble  pearl-tinted  consistencies ;  and  now  a  floating 
film  passed  before  the  star,  and  again  it  shone  out 
more  splendid  still,  and  anon  dimly  through  the 
gathering  haze,  and  so  was  lost  to  sight. 


324  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Larrabee  stood  for  a  time  spellbound,  still  gaz 
ing  up  into  heaven.  But  winds  were  astir  in  the 
region  of  the  clouds.  Heavy  purple  masses,  with 
here  and  there  flocculent  white  drifts  in  their  midst, 
and  showing  lines  of  white  at  their  verges,  were 
spreading  over  the  sky ;  the  temperature  had  fallen 
suddenly ;  he  was  shivering.  Vagrant  gusts  seemed 
to  issue  from  defiles  of  the  mountain,  and  he  heard 
the  awakening  of  the  pines.  Out  of  sight  of  the 
star  his  flagging  energies  failed.  The  definite 
realization  of  his  fatigue,  his  hunger,  his  faintness, 
pressed  upon  his  aroused  senses.  He  could  hardly 
support  his  tottering  limbs  to  the  door  of  the  Lost 
Time  mine,  and  drag  himself  up  on  the  rocks,  out 
of  the  reach  of  the  water,  to  rest,  as  he  waited  till 
the  clouds  should  pass,  till  the  sight  of  the  star 
should  be  renewed  to  his  longing  gaze.  Even  in 
its  eclipse,  in  a  certain  yearning  sense  of  bereave 
ment,  in  his  disappointment,  he  had  a  patience  and 
calm  acquiescence  begotten  of  confidence.  For  he 
should  see  it  again.  Was  it  not  his  own,  his  very 
own,  charged  with  some  unimagined  significance  to 
him  ?  He  shifted  his  posture  once,  reckoning  upon 
its  position  in  the  sky,  that  it  might  not  fail  his 
sight  the  moment  the  baffling  clouds  should  with 
draw.  He  was  conscious  of  a  high  degree  of  hap 
piness  despite  his  tremulous  thrills  of  suspense. 
He  gazed  upward,  as  he  reclined  on  the  ledge 
of  rock,  with  smiling  eyes  and  a  heart  full  of 
deep  content.  He  had  gone  far  enough  within  to 
have  an  upward  view  through  the  jagged  portal  of 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  325 

rough-hewn  rocks.  Beyond  their  edges  the  sky 
seemed  of  lighter  tint,  so  black  it  was  within.  He 
could  mark  here  how  the  clouds  made  sail,  how 
swiftly  the  wind  sped  them.  He  watched  a  section 
of  a  branch  close  at  hand  sway  in  sight,  and  swing 
back  on  the  wind,  and  once  more  wave,  nodding, 
plume]  ike,  into  view.  He  heard  the  sharp  bark  of 
a  fox  outside  in  the  woods  ;  it  roused  far-away  bay 
ing  of  drowsy  hounds,  and  again  all  was  still,  but 
for  the  reverberation  of  the  water  loud  against  the 
echoing  walls  of  the  darksome  place.  The  sound 
affected  his  nerves ;  he  was  dizzy  for  a  moment. 
Then  something  cold,  clammy,  suddenly  struck 
him  in  the  face.  His  heart  seemed  to  stand  still 
with  the  recollection  of  the  spectral  terrors  of  the 
place.  The  soft  chill  buffet  came  again  and  again, 
and  the  air  was  vaguely  fanned  about  his  brow 
before  he  recognized  the  noiseless  flight  of  bats  on 
their  way  to  the  outer  darkness.  He  lay  back  upon 
the  ledge,  finding  a  solace  in  the  mere  posture  of 
rest  in  his  extreme  fatigue,  and  once  more  watched 
the  jagged  black  portal  and  the  purple  clouds  with 
their  hoary  drifts,  as  in  endless  unbroken  folds 
they  rolled  before  the  serene  white  splendors  of 
that  wondrous  star.  Again  and  again  he  would 
lift  himself  upon  his  elbow,  fancying  that  the  cloud 
textures  waxed  thin,  and  that  presently,  when  they 
should  fall  away  from  before  it,  he  would  behold 
anew  the  sidereal  incandescent  glory  that  meant  so 
much,  that  should  mean  more  to  him.  Not  once 
did  his  faith  fail  him.  Not  once  did  he  doubt 


326  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

that  the  white  fires  of  this  star,  which  none  else 
could  see,  were  miraculously  kindled  and  charged 
with  some  deep  significance  for  him,  with  the 
vouchsafed  will  of  God.  For  were  not  stars  mes 
sengers  in  the  olden  time  ?  Had  he  not  read  of 
one,  supremely  blessed  and  brilliant,  which  had  led 
men,  the  wisest  men,  to  the  cradled  Christ?  As 
he  lay  back  in  the  dense  darkness,  with  the  gather 
ing  clouds  outside,  and  the  air  freighted  with  the 
sense  of  black  noiseless  invisible  wings  of  creatures 
of  ill  favor  and  ill  omen,  he  seemed  to  have  a 
vision  of  that  guiding  star,  —  not  a  chill  splendid 
crystalline  glitter  like  his  own,  high,  high  in  the 
sky,  but  low  down  in  the  dark  east,  and  of  a  soft 
supernal  silver  sheen  in  the  purple  shadowy  mist 
above  the  shadowy  purple  hills  of  Judea,  that 
stretched  out  in  ever-lengthening  perspectives,  as 
it  fared  on  and  slowly  on  its  mystic  way,  for  Beth 
lehem  might  still  be  far  to  seek. 

And  suddenly,  with  a  start,  *Larrabee  became 
aware  that  it  was  a  real  light  at  which  he  was 
gazing  far  down  in  the  Lost  Time  mine.  He  had 
slept  he  knew  not  how  long,  nor  in  what  danger, 
for  the  lantern  whose  starry  lustre  shone  so  far  in 
the  dark  cavernous  depths  was  swinging  in  the 
hands  of  one  of  two  men  who  must  have  passed  him 
as  he  lay  dreaming  and  unconscious.  He  hardly 
dared  move  at  first,  so  far  those  slanting,  divergent 
rays  extended  from  the  white  focus  into  the  dark 
ness.  He  lay  still,  struggling  for  a  moment  with 
the  idea  of  the  traditional  spectres  of  the  place, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  327 

whose  grisly  renown  had  served  to  make  it  so 
solitary.  It  was  the  lantern  which  proved  so  re 
doubtable  an  exorcist.  The  sight  of  the  little 
mundane  contrivance  appealed  to  his  logical  faculty 
as  no  mere  theory  of  the  impossibility  of  spectres 
could  have  done.  He  lifted  himself  cautiously  on 
his  elbow,  and  gazed  down  the  vistas  of  the  gloomy 
place  with  a  suspicious,  inquisitive  worldly  pulse 
beating  in  every  vein.  These  were  men  in  truth  ; 
and  what  was  their  mission  here?  One  of  them 
was  singularly  gesticulatory  of  manner.  The 
other  slouched  heavily.  It  was  the  latter  who  had 
just  lighted  the  lantern,  for  he  was  evidently 
throwing  away  a  match,  an  article  which  the  Lost 
Time  store  had  made  common  in  the  Cove.  Sud 
denly  they  were  joined  by  a  third  figure,  somehow 
detached  from  the  darkness,  for  Larrabee  could 
•  hardly  have  said  whence  he  had  approached,  and 
who  turned  with  a  light,  lithe  motion,  swinging  to 
his  shoulder  an  implement  which  the  thickset  man 
had  handed  him.  It  was  a  pick.  How  often  Lar 
rabee  had  heard  its  vibrations  ring  through  these 
storied  depths  while  he  threaded  the  dark  tunnel 
to  the  still,  and  shivered  at  the  thought  of  the  two 
dead  miners  digging  and  digging  the  graves  these 
thirty  years  for  their  bones  which  only  the  waters 
had  buried  I 

The  lantern  swayed,  the  shadows  all  flickered, 
the  group  was  on  the  move.  Larrabee  sprang  has 
tily  to  his  feet  to  follow. 

He  could  not  easily  judge  how  far  the  feeble 


328  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

glimmer  led  them,  so  rugged  and  winding  was  the 
way.  Once,  as  the  mouth  of  a  submerged  shaft 
yawned  suddenly  before  his  unprescient  feet,  he 
hesitated,  half  deterred ;  he  was  fain  to  skulk  with 
the  skulking  shadows,  lest  the  light  should  reveal 
his  presence,  and  thus  the  dangers  which  his  pre 
cursors  braved  menaced  him  doubly.  He  marveled 
that  they  dared  the  possibilities  of  the  place,  as  he 
noted  that  the  half-fallen  timbers  in  a  cross-cut 
through  which  they  passed  barely  supported  the 
masses  of  earth  which  any  jar  might  dislodge. 
Everywhere  was  the  sound  of  water  working  its 
secret  will  still  on  the  ruins  that  it  had  made,  and 
its  tone  added  to  the  awe  of  the  place,  and  the 
desolation,  and  the  darkness,  and  the  eerie  effect 
of  the  bats  that  flew  after  the  lantern  and  smote 
blindly  against  it. 

The  light  was  set  down  presently,  and  as  the- 
men  seemed  stirring  about  their  work  Larrabee 
ventured  to  approach  nearer  behind  a  pile  of 
broken  rock  in  the  darkness,  and  mopped  the  cold 
perspiration  from  his  brow.  He  caught  his  breath 
at  the  sight  of  the  faces  which  the  lantern  revealed. 

For  they  were  all  recruited  from  his  mother's 
hearth.  Some  crazy  folly,  doubtless,  of  old  man 
Haight  had  drawn  him  here.  He  had  been  one 
of  the  miners  before  that  catastrophe  which  had 
closed  the  work  forever ;  Larrabee  remembered  in 
what  deep,  blood-curdling  tones  he  was  wont  to 
curse  the  Lost  Time  mine.  And  his  daughter  Je- 
rusha's  husband,  —  it  had  always  been  a  marvel 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  329 

where  and  how  he  obtained  the  whiskey  he  so  in 
dubitably  consumed  ;  perhaps,  in  consideration  of 
his  age  and  infirmities,  Mrs.  Larrabee  furnished  a 
too  ample  allowance  of  liquor  to  old  man  Haight, 
who,  for  services  rendered  in  this  wild  enterprise, 
furnished  his  son-in-law. 

"  We-uns  hev  been  toler'ble  good  customers  o' 
the  Lost  Time  still,"  Larrabee  muttered  sarcas 
tically. 

And  there  was  Jack  Espey  !  The  sanity  of  his 
presence  here  was  easily  demonstrable  ;  nowhere 
else  could  he  so  safely  be.  How  he  had  chanced  to 
cooperate  in  this  strange  work  with  the  dotard  and 
the  sot  was  soon  explained. 

"  Gimme  a  holt  o'  that  thar  grub,"  he  said 
gruffly,  with  a  look  of  poignant  hunger  on  his  thin 
face. 

Old  Haight,  with  a  deprecatory  expression  and 
shaking  hand,  made  haste  to  give  him  a  small 
basket,  of  the  queer  shape  and  aspect  which  bespoke 
the  work  of  the  Indians  of  Quallatown.  The  young 
man  voraciously  thrust  his  hand  into  its  narrow 
mouth,  and  as  he  drew  forth  its  meagre  contents 
gave  vent  to  his  disappointment. 

"  My  Lord  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  that  all?  An* 
ye  expec'  me  ter  kem  hyar  night  arter  night  —  from 
—  from  "  —the  effort  of  his  heavy  flight  of  imagi 
nation  showed  in  his  face  —  "  from  'way  over  yan- 
der  whar  I  live  now,  an'  holp  ye  dig  an'  sech,  an' 
gin  me  sech  forage  ter  work  on  ez  that !  "  He 
pointed  contemptuously  at  the  food,  albeit  his 
mouth  was  full. 


330  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  Now,  now,  Jack,  now,  bubby,  lemme  tell  you," 
expostulated  the  old  man,  his  jaw  quivering  pain 
fully  as  he  spoke,  and  his  wrinkled  face  showing, 
in  the  glimmer  of  the  lantern,  at  once  grotesque 
and  piteous,  encircled  as  it  was  by  the  brilliant 
hues  of  a  little  shawl  of  Mrs.  Larrabee's,  in  which 
his  head  was  tied  up  for  protection  against  the 
weather,  and  which  was  surmounted  by  his  hat. 
"  Ye  dunno  how  durned  hard  it  war  ter  git  that 
much.  This  hyar  Henrietty  Timson  hev  got  us 
down  on  half  rations,  mighty  short  commons. 
'T  ain't  like  'twar  whenst  you-uns  lived  with  us, 
Jack.  Oh  my !  Oh  my,  no  !  "  and  he  shook  his 
queerly  upholstered  head  as  he  sat  quaking  and 
shivering  on  a  ledge  of  the  rock.  He  impressed 
Larrabee  as  much  out  of  place,  —  so  habituated 
was  he  to  the  sight  of  the  old  man  in  the  chimney 
corner,  —  as  the  oven,  or  pot,  or  crane,  or  any  other 
naturalized  appurtenance  of  the  fireside  might  have 
been.  He  let  his  veinous  old  shaking  hands  fall  on 
his  knees  with  a  gesture  deeply  significant  of  grief. 
"  I  wisht  ter  Gawd,"  he  cried,  "  ez  S'briny  war 
hyar ! " 

He  pronounced  her  name  as  if  she  were  a  sort  of 
minor  providence,  as  indeed  she  had  been  to  him. 

"Leetle  as  ye  hed,  ye  mought  hev  brung  it 
sooner,"  grumbled  Jack,  stuffing  the  half  of  a  very 
fat,  very  heavy  biscuit  into  his  mouth. 

"  Law,  Jack,"  cried  the  old  man,  "  we-uns  air 
plumb  'feared  ter  leave  the  house  sooner,  —  even 
arter  all  war  bedded  up  for  the  night.  That  thar 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  331 

'oman  hev  got  her  pryin'  nose  in  every  mortal 
thing  ;  'pears  ter  me  the  longest,  sharpest  nose  I 
even  seen,"  he  added  injuriously,  and  with  sudden 
sprightly  interest,  "  ain't  it,  Tawm?  " 

His  fellow-sufferer  from  its  pointed  inquisitive- 
ness  had  seemed  about  to  fall  asleep  in  a  heavy, 
shapeless  lump,  but  he  roused  himself  at  this  to 
add  his  testimony  with  some  sincere  acridity. 

"Longes'  an'  sharpes'  /ever  seen,"  he  protested 
thickly,  "  an'  I  hev  known  'em  p'inted  an'  drawn  out 
to  <#e-str  action."  His  snore  followed  so  promptly 
that  one  might  have  doubted  whether  he  had  spo 
ken  at  all ;  his  remark  presented  the  phenomenon 
of  a  waking  parenthesis,  as  it  were,  in  the  midst  of 
the  somnolent  text. 

"  I  tell  ye,  it 's  good  fur  S'briny  ter  go,  ter  let 
we-uns  savor  how  we  miss  her,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  Sech  a  house,  Jack,  sech  quar'lin'  an'  scufflin' 
an'  tormentin',  f 'om  mornin'  till  night,  —  crowdin' 
Me,  up  on  the  h'a'thstone,  an'  shovin'  my  cheer,  an' 
talkin'  'bout  useless  cumberers,  whenst  I  hev  been 
treated  with  sech  re-spec'  by  S'briny  Lar'bee  ez  ef 
I  hed  been  her  own  dad,  stiddier  jes'  her  husband's 
step-dad,  —  sech  re-spec'  an'  hot  vittles,  an'  the 
fus'  sarved,  an'  the  bes'  o'  everything!"  His  old 
face  flashed  with  the  recollection  of  the  recent  in 
dignities  offered  him.  "  The  pa' son  tells  ye  ter 
lean  on  the  Lord.  Ef  ye  ain't  got  the  grace  ter  do 
that,  S'briny  Lar'bee  's  a  mighty  good  help !  " 

For  the  life  of  him,  Jasper  Larrabee  could  not 
harden  his  heart. 


332  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"  Her  pet  tur-rkey  air  dead,"  old  man  Haight 
presently  observed  disconnectedly. 

"  Glad  of  it,"  said  Jack  callously.  "  I  never 
seen  a  beast  so  pompered,  an'  fairly  hanker  ter  git 
stepped  on,  forever  flusterin'  'roun'  the  floor  under 
foot." 

"  She  '11  be  powerful  sorry.  She  sot  a  heap  o' 
store  by  it,  an'  doctored  it  cornsider'ble.  She  'lowed 
it  hed  the  quinsy."  Then  after  a  pause,  "  Whenst 
I  gits  my  money  back,"  said  the  old  man  medita 
tively,  "  I  be  goin'  ter  buy  S'briny  Lar'bee  suthin' 
ez  will  s'prise  her,  —  I  dunno  what.  I  studies  on 
it  some  mighty  nigh  every  day.  A  spry  young 
filly,  mebbe,  or  a  good  cow  an'  calf,  —  I  dunno. 
I  'd  gin  her  the  money,  ef  she  would  n't  be  sure  ter 
fool  it  away  on  them  wuthless  triflin'  cattle  of  chil'n 
an'  folks  she  contrives  fur  all  the  time.  I  'd  gin 
S'briny  half  o'  the  cold  cash,  an'  ennyhow  I  layoff 
ter  spend  half  fur  a  presint  fur  her." 

Espey,  his  energies  recruited  by  food,  and  per 
haps  willing  to  postpone  the  evil  hour  of  shoveling 
and  digging,  looked  up  with  a  satiric  eye  and  a 
rallying  laugh. 

"  Whar  's  my  sheer,  ef  ye  be  goin'  ter  gin  Mis' 
Lar'bee  haffen  the  money  ?  Ye  'lowed  Tawm  hed 
hed  his  pay  in  whiskey,"  —  he  cast  a  side  glance  at 
the  bloated  slumbering  face  and  collapsed  figure  in 
the  shadow,  —  "an'  he  's  hed  a  plenty,  too,  fur  he  's 
nuthin'  but  a  cag  o'  liquor  set  a-goin'  on  two  legs ; 
but  I  'm  durned  ef  I  '11  take  my  pay  out  in  Mis' 
Timson's  sour  yeast  an'  raw  dough."  He  twirled 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  333 

the    empty    basket    over    contemptuously.      "Ye 
'lowed  that  night,  three  weeks  ago,  whenst  I  —  ye 

—  whenst  we  run  on  one  another,  an'  s'prised  one 
another,  ez  ye  'd  pay  me  solid  silver  ef  I  would  n't 
tell  nobody,  but  holp  ye ;  now  did  n't  ye  ?  " 

Espey's  tone  was  so  obviously  that  of  one  who 
speaks  in  flagrant  jest  that  Larrabee  perceived  he 
gave  the  unknown  enterprise  no  serious  support  or 
credence,  and  that  he  was  only  utilizing  some  pre 
posterous  delusion  of  the  old  man  touching  his  work 
in  the  Lost  Time  mine  to  secure  food  to  sustain  him 
while  he  evaded  the  pursuit  of  the  law. 

"  Ye  'low  ez  't  ain't  enough  money !  "  screamed 
the  old  man  shrilly,  and  Larrabee  recognized  the 
clamors  of  the  queer  cracked  voice  which  he  had 
been  wont  to  shudderingly  mark  in  the  tunnel  that 
led  to  the  still.  "  Ain't  I  done  tole  ye  what  I  ain't 
never  tole  no  other  livin'  man  —  I  don't  count  Tawm 

—  it  air  eighty-seben  dollars !     Yes,  sir,  nigh  on 
ter  a  hundred,  what  I  hed  done  sold  my  cabin  an' 
Ian'  fur  on  Big  Injun  Mounting  whenst  I  kem  over 
hyar  ter  settle,  —  eighty-seben  dollars  in  hard  sil 
ver  "  —     He   broke    off   abruptly.     Then,  in  the 
deep,  hollow,  blood-curdling  tone  which  Larrabee 
had  so  often  heard  about  the  fireside,  he  cursed  the 
Lost  Time  mine.     His  excitement  was  painful  to 
witness,  as  Larrabee,  still  looking  round  the  pile 
of  broken  rock,  noted  his  feverish  illumined  eyes, 
the  flush  on  his  withered  parchment-like  cheek,  the 
aimlessness  and  the  quaking  of  his  fluttering  nerve 
less  hand.     Espey  was  gazing  at  him  calmly,  his 


334  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

face  lighted  by  the  lantern  placed  on  the  ground 
between  them,  and  evidently  believing  that  not  a 
syllable  he  uttered  had  any  foundation  in  fact. 

"'T  war  the  day  o'  the  floodin'  o'  the  mine," 
old  Haight  mouthed  and  gesticulated  vehemently. 
"  Every  durned  thing  went  wrong  that  day  !  I  war 
hyar  a-workin'.  I  hed  worked  in  mines  over  in 
Car'liny,  an'  war  ekal  ter  all.  I  war  toler'ble  young 
an'  nimble,  —  knowed  ter  be  ez  nimble  ez  a  painter ! 
An'  one  o'  them  durned  buzzards  workin'  of  the 
windlass  drapped  the  whole  contrivance,  winch,  rope, 
bucket,  man,  an'  all,  down  inter  the  bottom  o'  the 
shaft ;  an'  they  could  n't  make  the  man  answer,  an' 
'lowed  he  war  kilt.  An'  I  —  the  devil's  own  fool 
—  mus'  ups  an'  volunteer  ter  go  down  an'  git  the 
windlass  an'  let  'em  hoist  it  out,  an'  then  let  down 
the  bucket  agin  an'  fetch  up  the  man  —  (I  f urgits 
his  name,  dad-burn  him !  —  Tom,  Jim,  Pete,  cuss 
him,  whatever  he  be  !  )  An'  ez  they  war  a  sort  o' 
harnessin'  me  up  with  ropes  under  my  arms  an' 
around  my  middle,  I  felt  my  leetle  bag  o'  money 
a-poppin'  'bout  in  my  pocket,  an'  'peared  ter  me  it 
mought  pop  out  down  in  that  deep  onhandy  shaft. 
An'  I  handed  it  ter  the  foreman  ter  keep  fur  me  in 
his  pocket,  —  he  war  a  clever  trusted  man  ;  I  never 
tole  the  t'others,  kase  they  war  toler'ble  hard  cases, 
an'  some  men  would  kill  a  man  fur  a  dollar  an'  a 
half ;  an'  bless  Gawd  —  eighty-seben  dollars  !  An' 
down  I  goes  !  I  hed  about  teched  bottom  when  — 
hell  broke  loose  !  I  'lowed  I  hearn  thunder :  't  war 
the  water  on  a  plumb  tear,  breakin'  down  the  walls 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  335 

an'  cavortin'  like  a  herd  o'  wild  cattle  through  the 
mine.  Seen  screechin's  !  The  men  ez  helt  the  rope 
drapped  it  on  my  head  an'  run  fur  thar  lives ! " 

With  open  mouth  and  shaking  jaw,  he  rose  up, 
and  gazed  eagerly  about,  while  Espey  wearily 
yawned  and  passed  his  hands  across  his  eyes. 

"It  bust  through  about  thar."  He  pointed 
about  in  real  or  fancied  recognition  of  the  course  of 
the  flood.  "But  over  yander  —  the  whole  thing 
hev  fell  down  an'  caved  in  sence  then,  mighty  nigh 
—  't  war  higher  '11  the  level  o'  the  overflow,  an'  I 
stayed  down  thar  in  the  shaft  dry  ez  a  bone.  I 
stayed  two  days  along  o'  that  dead  man.  I  furgits 
his  name,"  he  broke  off  in  peevish  irritation. 

He  sat  down,  readjusted  his  plaid  shawl  about 
his  head,  surmounted  it  again  with  his  big  broad 
hat,  and  recommenced :  — 

"  Wall,  they  'lowed  at  fust  they  'd  work  the  mine 
agin,  —  did  n't  know  what  the  damage  war ;  an'  ez 
they  war  pokin'  'bout,  somebody  'membered  me,  an' 
when  they  fished  me  out'n  the  shaft  I  hed  these 
hyar  jiggets."  He  held  up  his  shaking  hands, 
and  looked  in  exasperation  from  one  to  the  other. 
"  Some  calls  it  the  palsy,  but  the  doctor,  he  'lowed 
it  kem  from  the  narvous  shock.  An'  the  foreman, 
he  hed  done  hed  ter  git  drowned  with  my  leetle  bag 
o'  money  in  his  pocket."  He  rose  to  his  feet,  with 
a  sudden  steady  blazing  fire  in  his  eyes.  "  But  it 's 
silver,  —  eighty  —  seben  —  dollars !  "  He  pro 
nounced  the  words  as  if  they  expressed  the  wealth 
of  the  Indies.  "  They  air  silver,  —  silver  metal. 


336  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

Water  can't  hurt  'em,  an'  the  leetle  leather  bag 
kep'  'em  from  scatterin'.  The  foreman  's  got  'em 
in  his  pocket.  Mebbe  he  hain't  got  no  pocket  by 
this  time,  but  he  hain't  got  rid  o'  all  his  bones. 
The  money  '11  be  nigh  his  bones,  an'  I  be  goin'  ter 
foller  the  wash  o'  that  flood,  afore  the  walls  fell  in 
on  it,  till  I  find  'em." 

There  was  something  pathetic  to  Jasper  Larra- 
bee's  sympathetic  gaze  in  the  record  of  the  gradual 
failure  of  the  old  man's  mental  powers  registered 
on  the  walls.  He  could  easily  distinguish,  of 
course,  the  difference  in  the  work  wrought  by  num 
bers  and  with  the  expectation  of  valuable  ore  and 
this  unique  subterranean  burrowing  with  only  the 
object  of  old  Haight's  search  in  prospect.  But  at 
first  accepted  methods  of  mining  had  been  held  in 
regard  with  a  due  consideration  of  safety.  The  ex 
cavations  had  been  carefully  timbered,  the  debris 
of  the  ancient  lumber  serving  for  the  purpose ;  the 
nature  of  the  earth  and  rock  all  capably  recognized 
either  in  the  avoidance  of  obstacles  or  the  seizure 
of  advantage ;  the  exact  location  of  an  old  cross-cut 
definitely  ascertained  and  intersected  by  the  new 
tunnel,  and  utilized  to  further  him  on  the  way  to 
some  objective  point,  doubtless  once  definite  in  his 
mind,  but  now  hazy  and  intermittent,  or  possibly 
lost  altogether,  for  here  and  there,  evidently  at  ran 
dom,  great  vaults  had  been  hollowed  out  and  aban 
doned,  and  for  a  long  time  every  precaution  or 
thought  of  safety  had  been  discarded.  His  plan 
and  its  feasibility  were  gone,  and  only  his  inade 
quate  intention  remained. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  337 

Larrabee  started  violently  as  the  walls  rang  sud 
denly  with  the  weird  old  voice,  which,  with  its  keen, 
false  intonation,  had  so  often  struck  terror  to  the 
stout  hearts  of  the  moonshiners  of  the  Lost  Time 
still.  It  was  a  voice  of  insistent  command.  He 
was  urging  his  comrades  to  the  work,  and  pres 
ently  the  regular  strokes  of  the  pick  wielded  by 
the  stalwart  "  Tawm  "  set  the  echoes  of  the  place 
to  a  hollow,  melancholy  iteration  dreary  to  hear, 
and  dismally  blent  with  the  rush  of  the  cruel  tor 
rent.  Espey's  stroke  seemed,  in  comparison,  inci 
dental  and  ineffective  ;  but  albeit  both  men  worked 
apparently  with  a  will,  it  was  evidently  quite  at 
random,  obeying  implicitly  now  and  again  a  ges 
ture  or  command  given  in  pursuance  of  some  weak, 
wavering  intention,  and  changed  in  a  moment. 

The  accident  which  had  put  the  secret  into  Lar 
rabee' s  hands  seemed  to  him  now  so  natural  that  he 
marveled  that  it  had  not  been  earlier  revealed. 
But  doubtless  the  vocation  of  the  lost  miners  had 
served  to  connect  the  stroke  of  the  pick  with  their 
gruesome  fate,  and  thus  the  very  fact  of  the  sound, 
which  must  otherwise  have  betrayed  the  enterprise, 
aided  the  spectral  traditions  and  the  consequent 
avoidance  of  the  place  to  preserve  it.  Would 
Espey  have  dared,  he  asked  himself,  to  venture 
within,  had  he  not  feared  the  living  more  than  the 
dead?  And  but  for  his  own  recognition  of  the 
humble  lantern  and  its  necessarily  human  uses  he 
would,  for  fear  of  the  spectral  miners,  hardly  have 
tracked  the  old  miner  to  his  new  lead. 


338  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

And  suddenly,  with  the  very  thought,  notwith 
standing  the  perfectly  natural  solution  of  the  mys 
tery,  he  was  solicitous  as  to  the  means  of  departure. 
He  could  not  wait  to  follow  that  feeble  lantern  far 
enough  in  the  background  to  insure  his  invisibility. 
He  would  not  issue  upon  them  now  and  advertise 
his  discovery,  and  dismay  the  old  dotard  with  his 
hopeless  scheme.  "I  don't  want  to  torment  the 
pore  old  man,"  he  said.  He  felt  a  keen  thrill  of 
savage  joy  to  have  discovered  Espey's  lair,  but  he 
would  need  some  thought  to  secretly  entrap  him. 
"  Fur  ye  air  a  mighty  slick  shirk,  brother  Jack," 
he  said,  with  scorn.  He  was  feeling  some  matches 
in  his  pockets,  and  judging  of  their  number. 
Should  they  fail  him  before  he  reached  the  outer 
air,  he  could  step  aside  and  wait  till  the  men 
should  pass  with  the  lantern.  Its  glimmer  served 
now  as  long  as  the  passage  was  comparatively 
straight ;  when  it  turned,  himself  out  of  the  possi 
bility  of  view,  he  struck  the  first  match.  The  way 
was  shorter  than  he  had  fancied.  His  store  was  not 
yet  exhausted  when  he  felt  the  warmer  temperature 
from  without,  and  saw  the  jagged  outline  of  the 
portal  and  heard  the  melancholy  dash  of  the  rain ; 
for  it  was  once  more  "  falling  weather,"  and  the 
sky  was  cloaked  and  gray. 

As  he  hesitated  outside,  his  mind  intent  upon 
Espey  and  the  incidents  of  his  career  since  he  had 
been  among  them,  there  came  to  him  the  thought 
of  the  barn  in  which  his  whilom  friend  had  been 
wont  to  spend  so  many  idle  and  meditative  hours. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  339 

A  good  refuge,  to  be  sure,  for  a  fugitive  from  the 
law.  The  idea  of  comforts  allured  him  as  he  rec 
ollected  the  great  fragrant  elastic  masses  of  hay. 
A  hiding-place  as  well.  Here  even  Henrietta  Tim- 
son  would  hardly  find  him,  for  the  rotting  ladder, 
from  which  many  a  rung  was  missing,  afforded 
scant  footing  for  a  barn  swallow,  or  a  flying  squir 
rel,  or  an  athlete  like  himself  or  his  friend.  Sleep 
would  recruit  his  energies,  quiet  solace  his  mind,  a 
vacant  interval  of  time  clarify  his  intentions  and 
fortify  his  resolves.  He  started  up  the  mountain 
briskly ;  the  thought  of  home,  even  in  this  humble, 
secret,  half-outcast  guise,  warmed  his  heart.  He 
did  not  feel  the  rain  dash  in  his  face.  A  prescience 
of  October  was  unheeded  in  the  melancholy  ca 
dences  of  the  midnight  wind.  He  hardly  noted 
the  deep  gloom  of  the  Cove,  where  an  owl  was 
wailing  at  intervals,  and  whence  all  the  orange- 
tinted  lights  had  vanished.  As  the  chill  of  the 
failing  season  struck  him,  he  shivered,  but  uncon 
sciously.  He  had  forged  on  past  the  Lost  Time 
store  almost  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  where  the 
homeward  way  diverged,  when  suddenly  a  dull  sub 
terranean  thunder  shook  the  air,  and  the  earth 
seemed  to  tremble.  He  paused  in  astonishment. 

"  Why,  they  air  a-blastin'  down  thar  in  the 
Lost  Time  mine.  Espey  ought  n't  ter  let  two  be 
reft  folks  tech  sech  ez  that ;  't  ain't  safe." 

Then  he  reflected  that  Espey  himself  had  doubt 
less  superintended  the  charges  with  due  regard  to 
their  safety  and  his  own.  Nevertheless,  he  shook 


340  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

his  head  as  he  stood  looking  over  his  shoulder  into 
the  blank,  unresponsive  darkness.  He  heard  no 
more,  and  presently  he  turned  again  and  went  his 
homeward  way  in  the  dark  persistent  dripping  of 
the  early  autumn  rain. 


XVIII. 

THE  anomaly  of  administering  upon  one's  own 
estate  Lorenzo  Taft  was  permitted  in  some  sort  to 
experience.  A  definite  realization  of  finality  at 
tended  his  meditations,  at  he  sat  bending  over  the 
embers  in  the  great  fireplace  of  the  store,  in  the 
rain-clouded  morning  that  rose  upon  the  conclusion 
of  his  labors  of  removing  the  still  and  destroying 
all  its  approaches.  His  vocation  was  gone,  and 
naught  remained.  He  had  no  more  affinity  than 
a  fox  or  a  wolf  for  a  law-abiding  occupation.  The 
possible  profits  that  might  stick  to  his  hands  in 
the  process  of  the  conversion  of  the  goods  upion  the 
shelves  from  the  wholesale  ratio  to  the  retail  failed 
to  allure  him,  for  the  store  had  never  been  aught 
but  a  "  blind."  The  furrow  was  no  thoroughfare. 
That  wild  gambling  with  the  chances  of  the  sun 
and  wind  and  the  rain  in  its  season,  and  often  out 
of  its  season,  known  as  farming,  and  doubtless  per 
mitted  by  the  law  only  because  it  insures  its  own 
punishment,  was  risky  enough  to  jump  with  his 
humor,  but  the  stakes  were  hopelessly  inadequate. 
He  could  not  look  forward,  and  the  glance  back 
ward  over  the  shoulder  needs  a  good  conscience  to 
commend  the  prospect. 

Now  and   again  he   lifted   his  heavy  boot   and 


342  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

kicked  the  embers  together  fiercely,  as  if  at  great 
odds  with  his  thoughts  and  his  own  counsels. 
Like  many  another,  he  undervalued  his  success,  its 
hairbreadth  jeopardies  and  its  difficulty  of  attain 
ment,  now  that  it  was  fairly  secured.  It  seemed 
to  him  a  slight  thing,  the  device  of  his  quick  wits 
to  insure  his  safety,  and  his  satisfaction  in  its 
triumphant  exploitation  had  already  evanesced. 
Had  it  been  possible  to  reestablish  the  status  of 
yesterday,  doubtless  he  would  have  hardily  risked 
the  discovery  of  the  still,  the  disclosure  of  Larra- 
bee,  the  capture  of  Espey,  Dan  Sykes's  drunken 
tongue,  and,  as  a  result  of  these,  the  "  shootin'- 
irons  "  of  the  "  revenuers  "  and  the  sentence  of  the 
federal  court.  But  gunpowder  as  a  factor  in  a 
scheme  admits  of  no  second  thoughts. 

He  even  upbraided  his  own  acumen  that,  in  the 
emergency,  he  had  sought  with  an  eye  single  the 
safety  of  himself,  his  one  remaining  comrade,  and 
the  apparatus,  regardless  of  all  considerations  of 
enmity.  But  now  that  judgment  was  satisfied  and 
escape  certain,  vengeance  clamored. 

Whenever  he  thought  of  Larrabee  outside,  tri 
umphant,  free,  enjoying  an  absolute  immunity  from 
the  law  by  reason  of  the  destruction  of  the  moon 
shiners'  lair,  which  rendered  the  discovery  of  his 
complicity  impossible,  Taft  frowned  heavily  and 
swore  beneath  his  breath,  and  kicked  the  unoffend 
ing  embers  into  a  new  adjustment,  so  bitter  was  the 
fact  that  his  own  safety  made  Larrabee 's  protec 
tion  complete.  Even  poor  Dan  Sykes's  exile  —  and 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  343 

doubtless  the  young  sot  was  well  on  the  way  to 
Texas  by  this  time  —  was  as  necessarily  a  measure 
taken  in  Larrabee's  behalf  as  if  it  were  the  dear 
est  desire  of  Taft's  heart  to  shield  and  screen  him. 
The  realization  that,  despite  himself,  Larrabee 
shared  his  security  cheapened  it.  Less  and  less  he 
realized  its  value.  A  turbulent  pulse  began  to 
stir  within  his  veins.  His  heavy  cheek  was  red 
and  pendulous  beneath  his  yellow  beard.  Occa 
sionally  he  dropped  his  lower  jaw  with  an  expres 
sion  of  angry  dismay,  so  ill  had  the  event  fallen 
out  with  his  liking.  The  sight  of  Copley  wan 
dering  about  the  half-darkened  house,  lighted  only 
by  the  fire  and  the  pallid  grayiiess  from  the  door 
ajar  opening  upon  the  rainy  outside  world,  as  un 
easy  as  a  homeless  cat,  able  to  settle  to  nothing, 
his  face  a  palimpsest  of  care  and  trouble  and  fail 
ure,  overwritten  again  and  again  above  the  half- 
obliterated  script  of  years  agone,  irritated  him 
vaguely.  Taft  eyed  him  loweringly,  as  the  two 
children  in  the  opposite  room  besieged  him  for  the 
detail  of  the  adventures  and  dramatic  "  taking  off  " 
of  a  certain  "  black  b'ar,"  a  vanquished  enemy  of 
his  earlier  days,  which  he  recounted  as  aimlessly 
as  if  the  story  were  elicited  by  a  wooden  crank ; 
but  responding  to  a  spirited  encore,  he  plucked  up 
heart  of  grace  to  add  new  and  fresh  particulars. 
His  worn  and  not  unkindly  face  did  not  ill  become 
the  armchair  and  the  propinquity  of  the  juvenile 
heads.  His  serenity,  as  the  two  resorted  from  con 
tradiction  to  blows,  smartly  administered  across 


344  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

him  to  his  own  great  jeopardy,  bespoke  a  grand- 
fatherly  tolerance,  nearly  related  to  affection,  for 
the  combatants.  Without  more  masterful  leading 
than  his  own  mind  could  originate  or  his  own  pro 
pensities  could  furnish,  he  might  spend  the  rest  of 
his  life  at  the  plough-handles,  and  ask  no  better 
society,  and  hope  for  naught  beyond  his  coarse 
garb  and  his  coarser  fare.  He  was  growing  old, 
and  this  might  be  a  better  prospect  than  the  still 
could  promise,  with  always  the  possibility  of  a  fed 
eral  prisoner's  cell  at  the  vanishing  point  of  the 
long  perspective. 

Taft  could  preempt  no  such  demesne  of  mild 
content.  His  rankling  regret  for  all  that  he  had 
done,  and  done  so  well,  in  that  it  served  his  enemy 
perforce  as  one  with  himself,  deepened  as  he  began 
to  realize  that  in  escaping  so  great  and  imminent  a 
danger  none  sustained  appreciable  injury  but  him 
self.  He  alone  seemed  at  the  end.  He  could  not 
for  years,  perhaps,  safely  rehabilitate  the  still.  A 
new  place  must  be  sought,  a  new  trade  established, 
new  dangers  guarded  against ;  and  complicated  by 
his.  relations  with  Larrabee,  at  large  and  at  enmity, 
a  removal  unobserved  and  a  reestablishment  with 
out  pursuit  seemed  impossible.  He  dwelt  with  fu 
tile  persistence  on  the  peculiar  adaptability  of  his 
hiding-place,  now  demolished  forever.  Nowhere 
else  could  he  have  commanded  such  advantages  of 
seclusion.  Surely  nowhere  else  could  his  dangerous 
vocation  have  been  so  safely  plied.  He  enumerated 
the  varied  precautions  that  he  had  observed,  the 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  345 

dangers  that  he  had  successfully  balked.  All  the 
chances  of  the  world  outside  had  run  in  his  favor ; 
even  the  mysterious  burning  of  the  hotel  was 
strangely  calculated  to  aid  his  design  in  prevent 
ing  the  advent  into  the  Cove  of  summer  sojourn- 
ers,  that  might  lead  to  the  discovery  of  his  lair. 
Doubtless,  too,  by  this  time,  in  addition,  Kennis- 
ton's  plans  were  definitely  and  forever  baffled  by 
the  untoward  result  of  processioning  the  land. 
And  as  the  thought  of  it  recurred  to  him  he  started 
suddenly,  the  color  deepened  in  his  face,  and  he 
beheld  the  events  of  which  he  had  elected  to  play 
the  motive  power  in  a  new  and  baleful  light. 

Certainly  there  was  no  ,flaw  in  his  reasoning  that 
stormy  night  when  he  had  betaken  himself  in  com 
pany  with  the  wind  and  the  rain,  high  up  into  the 
solitudes  of  the  "bald"  of  the  mountain.  A  wild 
night,  with  none  else  abroad  save  perchance  a  stray 
marauder  of  the  furry  gentry.  Only  the  mists 
dogged  his  steps,  and  only  the  lightnings  searched 
out  his  path.  The  gigantic  boulder  that  seemed 
immovable,  grim,  gaunt,  forbidding,  the  agency  of 
giant  powder  set  astir  easily  enough ;  and  although 
the  charge,  accurately  calculated  for  the  purpose, 
was  not  sufficient  to  fracture  the  great  mass,  its 
equilibrium  on  the  steep  slope  was  destroyed.  A 
wild  turbulent  dance  it  had  as  it  hurled  down  the 
slope  from  the  spot  where  the  ebbing  seas  of  cen 
turies  agone  had  left  it  stranded.  A  thunderous 
crashing  voice  it  lifted  as  it  went,  and  the  thunder 
of  the  clouds  seemed  to  reply.  In  the  pallid  dawn 


346  HIS    VANISHED    STAR. 

of  the  rainy  day,  Taft  had  crept  back  through  the 
wet  clouds  of  the  summits  and  the  spent  winds  lin 
gering  in  the  dank  woods,  to  behold  it  lying  there  in 
this  alien  stop,  as  immovable  of  aspect  as  of  yore, 
with  great  trees  uprooted  by  the  tempest  athwart 
the  rocky  ledges  about  its  path,  and  every  trace 
of  the  action  of  powder  effaced  by  the  persistent 
rain.  It  marked  a  new  corner  for  the  beginning 
of  Kenniston's  survey  ;  on  a  line  with  the  old,  it  is 
true,  but  full  five  furlongs  distant.  It  was  a  north 
westerly  line  to  be  run  out  thence;  the  greater 
divergence  would  occur  in  the  Cove,  which  fact 
Taft  had  learned  as  Kenniston  made  a  swift  plat 
of  his  irregularly  shaped  land  with  his  cane  on 
the  floor  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  cabin  porch.  A  simple 
scheme  enough,  this,  —  that  the  one  available  site 
for  the  hotel  should  be  thrown  within  the  lines 
of  Cap'n  Lucy,  who  would  not  bargain,  sell,  or 
convey,  and  thus  the  ill-omened  caravansary 
crowded  out  of  the  space  it  was  expected  to  oc 
cupy  ;  for  as  yet  Bruin's  intervention  as  incendiary 
was  among  the  uncovenanted  things,  and  since 
the  unlucky  threat  to  burn  the  building  had  origi 
nated  among  the  moonshiners  Taft  feared  discovery 
should  he  apply  the  torch  himself.  A  simple 
scheme,  well  planned  and  carried  out  with  full 
effect,  —  and  how  should  its  completion  so  ill  please 
its  projector  ? 

The  fact  that  Cap'n  Lucy  should  profit  by  it 
Taft  had  heretofore  hardly  heeded,  since  this  was 
the  necessary  incident  of  his  own  greater  profit. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  347 

Now,  however,  that  treachery,  as  he  esteemed  it, 
had  riddled  the  whole  finespun  web  and  brought 
it  to  naught,  a  turmoil  of  rage  possessed  him.  It 
seemed  some  curious  chicanery  of  fate  that  he  alone 
should  sustain  loss,  and  that  to  others  should  ac 
crue  all  the  advantage  of  his  subtle  weavings  of 
chance  and  fact,  as  if  the  threads  still  held  fast. 
Cap'n  Lucy  was  in  possession,  doubtless,  of  many 
hundred  acres  of  Kenniston 's  land.  He  suddenly 
grudged  them  to  Cap'n  Lucy  as  he  had  never 
bethought  himself  to  grudge  them  to  Kenniston. 
Jealousy  is  an  intimate  passion,  and  insistently  of 
the  soil.  The  neighbor,  the  associate,  the  friend's 
friend,  —  it  makes  no  far  casts.  Kenniston  was 
beyond  its  restricted  bounds. 

Cap'n  Lucy's  causticity,  his  arrogance,  his  in 
sulting  courage  which  belittled  the  possibilities  of 
another  man's  wrath,  his  intrenchment  in  the  sub 
servience  of  his  household,  and  his  preeminence  in 
the  esteem  of  his  small  world  did  not  serve  to  com 
mend  him  to  his  unwilling  benefactor,  who  stood  in 
immediate  contemplation  of  his  own  loss.  And 
as  the  radiant  face  of  Julia  appeared  in  the  dim 
midst  of  Taft's  recollection,  he  rose  to  his  feet,  his 
resolution  taken  in  the  instant.  He  had  not  forgot 
ten  the  look  in  Larrabee's  eyes  when  Espey  had 
demanded  of  him  whom  he  had  been  "  a-courtin'  at 
Tems's."  Now,  with  Espey  gone,  and  Larrabee 
foot-loose  and  free,  it  might  chance  that  these  hun 
dreds  of  acres  of  which  he  had  bereft  Kenniston 
would  one  day  fall  into  Larrabee's  possession  as 


348  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

his  wife's  inheritance,  when  Cap'n  Lucy  should  go 
to  his  account,  —  which  Taf t  doubted  not  would 
be  a  long  one. 

"  I  '11  be  dad-burned,"  he  cried,  "  ef  I  '11  stand 
by  an'  see  Kenniston  choused  fur  old  Lucy  or 
Lar'bee,  air  one !  " 

Few  human  motives  are  simple.  The  travesty  of  | 
restitution  served  to  cloak  even  to  himself  jealousy 
and  grudging  and  revenge,  and  that  mad  impulse 
to  hurl  down  and  wreak  woe  upon  those  who  had 
chanced  to  prosper  in  the  dispensations  which  he 
had  ordered  himself,  and  which  had  wrought  per 
versely  to  his  injury.  He  had,  however,  nothing" 
of  the  appearance  or  the  manner  of  a  subtle  villain 
when  he  was  on  horseback  in  the  slanting  lines  of 
rain,  that  mutiplied  till  they  hid  the  mountains 
near  at  hand,  and  erased  the  Cove,  and  nullified  all 
the  conditions  of  the  familiar  world.  On  the  con 
trary,  his  bluff,  bold,  open  aspect  was  of  a  reassur 
ing  geniality,  notwithstanding  its  overbearing  inti 
mations,  and  served  to  identify  him  to  Kenniston, 
as  he  lounged  in  his  unsubstantial  domicile,  and 
looked  out  ruefully  at  the  dull  day  with  the  gray 
rain  and  the  grayer  mist  and  the  ochreous  pools  of 
water,  seeing  naught  else  till  this  massive  equestrian 
figure  materialized  in  its  vaporous  midst  and 
seemed  to  ride  straight  out  of  it.  Taft  flung  him 
self  from  his  saddle  with  a  decision  which  implied 
a  mission ;  and  despite  Kenniston' s  intention  to 
discourage  the  visits  of  the  mountaineers,  he  could 
not,  with  so  assured  a  guest,  have  withheld  the 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  349 

customary  greeting  of  hospitality  without  more 
definite  rudeness  than  he  had  expected  to  adventure. 

The  new-comer  was  the  more  welcome  since 
Kenniston's  companion  in  keeping  the  monkey 
stove  warm  was  Rodolphus  Ross,  who  had  come  to 
the  Cove  for  the  purpose  of  examining  the  scene  of 
the  fire,  and  ferreting  out  the  incendiary.  He  had, 
under  the  guise  of  questioning  Kenniston  on  the 
subject,  inflicted  his  society  upon  his  restive  host 
for  the  better  part  of  an  hour,  now  and  then  desist 
ing  from  the  discussion  to  work  away  at  the  damper 
of  the  monkey  stove,  which  he  patronizingly  denom 
inated  a  "  smart  little  trick,"  albeit  by  reason  of 
the  heavy  air  and  ill  adjustment  and  the  lack  of  ad 
equate  draught  it  was  doing  itself  no  credit.  Ross 
experimented  with  an  ardor  and  uninformed  energy 
which  threatened  the  total  wreck  of  its  constitution. 
The  clatter  of  the  metal  was  hardly  more  grating 
upon  Kenniston's  educated  nerves  than  were  his 
guest's  speech  and  bearing.  There  was  something 
in  the  exaggeration  of  the  deputy's  urban  boorish- 
ness,  the  plaid  of  his  ill-fitting  garments,  the  hilar 
ity  of  his  vulgar  townish  impudence,  that  daunted 
a  charitable  acceptation  of  his  foibles.  So  distaste 
ful  to  Kenniston's  cultured  taste  was  the  degree  of 
sophistication  acquired  by  the  deputy  sheriff,  and 
with  many  a  misconception  adapted  to  his  person 
ality,  that  the  absence  of  it  seemed  dignity  in  the 
mountaineer,  and  Taft's  unvarnished  address  the 
unpolished  substratum  of  good  manners. 

"  How  's  ducks  in  the  hills  ?  "  Ross  greeted  him, 


350  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

dropping  the  small  poker,  and  looking  up  with 
bright  dark  eyes,  the  two  prominent  front  teeth  vis 
ible  beneath  the  short  upper  lip.  There  was  a  mo 
ment  of  rabbit-like  expectancy  of  expression  ;  then 
his  lips  widened  to  a  laugh  as  the  burly  stranger 
turned  his  serious,  impressive  face  toward  him. 

"  Air  you-uns  speakin'  ter  me,  sir?  "  demanded 
Taft,  in  a  grave,  direct  manner,  his  steady  eye  full 
upon  him. 

The  airy  deputy  shifted  ground  for  once.  "  Good 
day  fur  ducks,"  he  modified  his  speech. 

"  Cornsider'ble  fallin'  weather,"  admitted  Taft 
incidentally,  and,  seating  himself  in  the  chair  in 
dicated  by  Kenniston,  he  proceeded  to  take  part  in 
the  conversation,  his  big  booming  voice  rendering 
interruption  impossible  save  as  he  listed. 

"  I  hev  viewed  you-uns  afore  at  old  Cap'n  Lucy 
Tems's  house,"  he  said  to  Kenniston,  crossing  his 
legs,  and  eying  the  steam  casually  as  it  rose  from 
the  damp  boots  under  the  persuasive  heat  of  the 
stove.  "  Yes,  sir,  Taft  is  my  name." 

"I  remember  you  very  well,"  said  Kenniston 
affably.  "  Won't  you  light  your  pipe  ? "  He 
pushed  a  match  holder  and  tobacco  pouch  across 
the  table  to  him. 

Taft,  without  comment,  filled  his  pipe  from  an 
inexhaustible  supply  of  tobacco  that  seemed  always 
loose  in  his  pocket ;  it  was  far  stronger  than  that 
of  his  host,  as  the  rank  odor  which  rose  on  the 
air  presently  demonstrated.  Rodolphus  Ross  had 
looked  at  him  with  a  grin  of  hopeful  anticipation, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  351 

which  shrunk  at  once  when  he  recognized  and 
adapted  to  his  own  needs  the  uses  of  the  lucifer 
match. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Taft  resumed,  "  I  war  toler'ble  sorry 
ter  hear  'bout'n  yer  hotel  bein'  burnt.  I  did  n't 
view  it  at  the  time."  He  puffed  the  coals  into  a 
glow,  and  pulled  away  comfortably. 

"  Meanes'  people  on  yearth,  these  hyar  mountain 
eers  !  "  cried  Ross.  "  They  jes'  so  durned  ignorant 
they  don't  know  sin  from  salvation,  nor  law  from 
lying." 

"  Then  they  ain't  'sponsible,"  remarked  Taft 
coolly.  He  pressed  down  the  burning  tobacco  in 
the  bowl  with  a  callous  forefinger  indurated  by 
long  practice  to  crowding  his  pipe,  and  resumed : 
"  I  'lowed  it  mought  gin  ye  a  start  ef  I  war  ter  tell 
ye  I  hearn  sev'ral  men  talkin'  'bout  burnin'  it,  — 
long  time  ago,  'fore  it  war  begun." 

Kenniston  was  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  much 
at  his  ease,  noting  with  a  sort  of  languid  interest 
the  intimations  of  force  and  ferocity  in  his  visitor's 
face  :  the  keen  sagacity,  rather  as  of  the  instinctive 
endowment  of  one  of  the  lower  orders  of  creation 
than  an  enlightened  intelligence ;  the  beaklike  nose  ; 
the  contradictory  geniality  of  the  full  blue  eye  and 
broad  floridity.  He  brought  his  tilted  chair  sud 
denly  to  the  floor,  leaned  forward  on  the  table,  with 
a  slight  exclusive  gesture  toward  Rodolphus  Ross, 
which,  although  it  escaped  that  worthy,  caused  Taft 
a  sharp  regret  for  his  precipitancy. 

The  deputy  sheriff  was  all  a-clamor. 


352  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

"  Why,  now,  my  big  bull  o'  Bashan,  ye  hev  got 
ter  make  that  statement  under  oath  with  full  par- 
tic'lars,  —  names,  dates,  and  place  !  "  He  rose  up 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  monkey  stove,  with  the 
lifter  in  his  hand,  with  which  he  gesticulated  im 
peratively. 

Kenniston  could  hardly  repress  his  impatience. 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Ross,  of  course,  —  all  in  due 
season,"  he  said  irritably. 

"  But  abuse  the  authorities,  in  season  an'  out,  an' 
'low  the  devil  will  ketch  the  officer,  in  due  course  o' 
jestice,  'fore  the  officer  '11  ketch  the  malefactor.  I 
ain't  a-goin'  ter  lose  you,  Mr.  Durham,  ye  bet  high 
on  that !  "  he  added,  turning  to  Taft. 

"Mr.  Taft  expects  to  swear  to  the  facts,  of 
course,"  said  Kenniston.  He  paused  abruptly, 
meditating  a  remonstrance  with  the  tumultuous 
brute ;  but  Ross's  very  vulgarity,  his  clamorous 
brutality,  the  impossibility  of  reaching  through  his 
hardened  exterior  any  sensitiveness,  or  pride,  or 
sense  of  decorum,  or  whatever  sanction  may  control 
the  heart  of  a  man  who  is  a  gentleman  in  jeans, 
gave  him  an  advantage  over  a  man  of  breeding 
which  no  culture  could  compass.  Kenniston  could 
not  cope  with  him;  his  training  had  prepared  him 
for  no  such  encounter. 

Only  Taft's  great  sonorous  voice  could  overbear 
the  deputy's  words,  which  sounded  in  his  first  utter 
ance  with  the  disjointed  effect  of  Christmas  fire 
crackers  enlivening  the  booming  of  Christmas  guns. 

"  I  '11  make  oath  ter  statements  ez  ter  date  an' 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  353 

person,  but  not  place,  —  I  hev  no  call  ter  drag 
other  folks  inter  sech.  I  dunno  ez  they  fired  the 
hotel ;  I  only  heard  'em  threat  it." 

"But  why?  "  demanded  Kenniston  eagerly. 

"  Deviltry,  —  deviltry,  o'  course,"  protested  Ross. 
He  had  contrived  to  smirch  his  face  in  the  careless 
handling  of  the  poker  of  the  monkey  stove,  which 
added  a  certain  grotesque  effect  to  his  appearance, 
if  one  were  in  the  mood  to  be  amused  by  it. 

Kenniston's  mood  was  far  from  such  influences. 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  be  quiet,  sir,"  he  said,  with 
acridity. 

"  Ye  must  ?  "  sneered  Rodolphus  Eoss.  "  An' 
who  war  that  ez  'lowed  ef  the  local  force  war  so 
'  torpid,'  —  torpid,  ye  hed  it,  —  ye  'd  hev  up  pri 
vate  detectives  from  Bretonville  ter  settle  the  hash 
o'  these  kentry  varmints  ?  " 

He  threw  up  his  eyebrows  almost  to  the  smirches 
obliquely  laid  across  his  forehead,  laughed  with  a 
gleam  of  white  teeth  and  an  intent  widening  of  the 
dark  eyes,  the  whole  facial  expression  gone  in  an 
instant. 

"  Waal,  we  ain't  '  torpid '  no  longer.  4  Wake 
up,  snakes  ! '  Now,  old  buck,  answer  my  questions, 
an'  tell  me  why  they  war  n't  willin'  ter  let  Mr.  Ken 
niston  build  his  hotel  in  the  Cove." 

Kenniston  folded  his  arms  as  he  tilted  himself 
back  in  his  chair,  and  resigned  the  conversation  to 
its  unique  leadership.  The  ceaseless  motion  of  the 
falling  lines  of  rain  gave  a  spurious  effect  of  motion 
to  the  great  monastic  forms  of  the  mountains  cowled 


354  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

with  mists  and  robed  in  dreary  hue,  seeming  con 
tinually  in  sad  processional  along  the  horizon.  The 
ochreous  pools  near  at  hand  had  lost  all  capacity 
for  reflection,  although  the  dark  green  branches  of 
the  firs  here  and  there  bent  above  them,  and  the 
gray  rain  dripping  from  the  fibrous  fringes  upon 
the  unquiet  tremulous  surface  took  its  color,  and 
was  seen  no  more.  His  returning  glance  met 
Taft's  eye  as  he  was  about  to  speak,  and  somehow 
in  that  momentary  contact  a  quiet  understanding- 
was  established  between  them. 

"  The  reason,  I  reckon,  they  did  n't  want  Mr. 
Kenniston  ter  build  his  hotel  hyar  war  'kase  't  would 
bring  too  many  strangers  round." 

"  An' what  's  the  objection  to  strangers  ?  "  asked 
Kenniston  anxiously.  It  was  not  merely  a  retro 
spective  interest  that  the  question  served.  He 
asked  for  the  future. 

"  Waal,  I  reckon  they  hed  some  moonshinin'  or 
sech  on  hand,"  returned  Taft  coolly. 

"  Thar,  now !  what  did  I  tell  ye  ?  "  vociferated 
Rodolphus  Ross,  appealing  to  Kenniston.  "  An' 
I  '11  bet  this  hyar  Larrabee  war  one  of  'em." 

Taft  nodded,  and  Kenniston  meditatively  eyed 
the  dull  flashes  from  the  stove,  recollecting  the 
strange  conversation  of  Larrabee  here,  and  his  sud 
den  significant  betrayal  of  secret  knowledge  of  the 
origin  of  the  fire  when  it  was  mentioned. 

"  Strangers  air  powerful  onhealthy  fur  the  moon- 
shinin'  business,"  said  Taft,  as  a  sort  of  corollary 
of  his  former  statement. 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  355 

"Speak  from  experience?"  sneered  Rodolphus 
Ross. 

"  I  do  so,"  declared  Taft  unequivocally.  Then 
turning  to  Kenniston,  "  I  sarved  a  prison  term  fur 
illicit  distillin'  whenst  I  war  a  young  man.  I 
'lowed,  like  all  these  other  young  inuskrats,  ez  I 
could  do  what  I  pleased  with  my  own  corn  an' 
apples.  But  whenst  I  traveled  all  through  six  or 
seben  States  goin'  to  the  North,  an'  seen  this  big 
kentry  an'  sech,  I  knowed  I  war  n't  ekal  ter  runnin' 
agin  its  laws  ;  an'  whether  thar  's  reason  in  'em  or 
no,  I  ondertook  ter  keep  'em  arterward." 

This  unexpected  confession  disconcerted  Ross  in 
some  sort.  He  silently  eyed  Taft,  whose  criminal 
experience  seemed  rather  an  error  of  an  unripe 
judgment  than  the  turpitude  of  law-breaking,  and 
his  candor  in  admitting  it  bluntly  did  not  detract 
from. the  serious  impression  he  had  evidently  made 
upon  Kenniston.  With  Ross  nothing  was  serious 
long.  There  was  a  sudden  breaking  up  of  the 
gloss  of  intentness  in  his  round  dark  eyes,  and  as 
they  shifted  they  fell  upon  the  poker  of  the  stove, 
and  he  once  more  thrust  it  through  the  bars  and 
rattled  it  smartly. 

"  I  oughter  say,"  said  Taft,  meditatively  sucking 
his  pipestem,  "  that  't  war  Espey  ez  fust  'lowed  ter 
burn  ye  out.  4  Burn  his  shanty  ! '  he  say." 

A  picture  as  definite  as  if  it  were  the  reality  of 
pigments  and  canvas  glowed  suddenly  before  his 
contemplation,  —  the  red  walls  of  his  den  a-flicker 
in  the  flare  of  the  furnace  fire,  the  burnished  gleam 


356  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

of  the  copper,  the  burly  forms  of  the  tubs  of  mash, 
familiars  of  the  brown  gloom,  and  the  circle  of 
faces,  definite  with  those  sharply  marked  shadows 
and  striking  high  lights  that  a  strong  artificial  glow 
elicits  from  the  darkness.  For  his  life  he  could 
not  repress  a  long-drawn  sigh,  and  then  he  shifted 
his  position  and  cleared  his  throat  raucously.  But 
the  picture,  like  many  another  masterpiece  of  the 
painter  Memory,  was  not  on  general  exhibition. 
For  all  its  close  detail  and  strong  salience  and  bril 
liant  reality  of  hue,  it  was  invisible  to  Kenniston. 
As  to  the  regretful  sigh,  fat  men  are  often  wont  to 
sigh  for  very  fatness,  and  it  passed  without  signifi 
cance. 

After  a  meditative  pause,  "  Did  it  ever  occur  to 
you  that  this  Larrabee  is  a  crank,"  asked  Kennis 
ton,  "  what  you  call,  and  very  aptly,  touched-in-the- 
head?" 

"  Who  ?  Larrabee  ?  "  exclaimed  Taft  vehe 
mently,  all  alert  once  more,  his  eyes  on  fire,  his 
angry  breath  quick.  "  He 's  smart  ez  the  very 
devil !  Don't  you  let  him  pull  the  wool  over  yer 
eyes  with  the  lunacy  purtense." 

Eodolphus  Ross  gave  a  final  rasping  clatter  of 
the  poker  between  the  bars  ;  then  flung  it,  resound 
ing,  down  upon  the  floor.  He  rose  to  his  feet, 
stamping  with  first  one  and  then  the  other  to  shake 
out  his  trousers  from  their  persistent  kneed  effect, 
and,  turning  to  Taft,  he  said,  with  an  off-hand 
manner,  "  Now,  look-a-hyar,  Prize  Beef,  when  did  ye 
an'  this  sca'ce  buzzard  Lar'bee  meet  the  last  time  ?  " 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  357 

The  "  Prize  Beef  "  apparently  perceived  no  sort 
of  offense  in  this  form  of  address. 

"  I  ain't  viewed  him  in  —  I  dunno  when.  I 
'lowed  he  hed  lef '  the  kentry  till  he  war  up  at  my 
store,  a  few  nights  ago.  I  war  n't  thar,  but  my 
leetle  gal,  she  seen  him." 

The  sly,  predatory  look  was  in  Rodolphus  Ross's 
eyes.  He  lifted  his  knee  and  smote  it  as  if  he  had 
discovered  a  very  apt  coincidence. 

Taf  t  hesitated ;  then  he  said,  "  Ye  'd  better  go 
up  yander  an'  talk  ter  my  leetle  darter  'bout'n  it." 
He  hesitated  once  more.  He  feared  that  Copley 
might  be  inadequate  to  the  situation,  but,  with  his 
ever  alert  suspicions,  he  would  doubtless  fly  at  the 
very  sight  of  a  stranger ;  and  as  to  Sis,  he  could 
rely  upon  Rodolphus  Ross's  address  and  manner  to 
arouse  the  enmity  of  old  Mrs.  Jiniway's  disciple  in 
etiquette,  and  he  knew  of  old  that  Sis  was  wont  to 
give  her  adversary  no  quarter.  A  dozen  of  such  as 
Rodolphus  Ross  would  hardly  be  a  handful  for  Sis. 
He  would  learn  naught  from  her  which  he  wanted 
to  know.  "  Take  my  mare  out  thar,  bein'  ready 
saddled,"  he  said  hospitably.  "  I  '11  wait  hyar  till 
ye  kem  back." 

Contrariety  was  the  breath  of  the  deputy's  life. 
The  congeniality  of  his  vocation  lay  much  in  the 
opposition  of  his  duties  to  the  desires  of  those  of 
his  fellow-men  with  whom  he  was  brought  into  offi 
cial  contact.  He  earnestly  wished  to  negative 
Taft's  suggestion,  but  the  possibility  of  getting  at 
closer  quarters  with  Larrabee,  of  once  more  finding 


358  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

his  trail,  which  had  seemed  to  disappear  from  the 
face  of  the  earth,  was  stronger  for  the  moment. 
His  enmity  had  not  grown  cold  ;  it  was  the  more 
vehement  the  more  it  was  baffled.  He  lingered  a 
moment  ;  then,  turning  up  his  collar,  and  pulling 
down  the  broad  rim  of  his  hat  all  around  to  afford 
eaves  to  conduct  the  rain  from  his  head,  he  plunged 
out  into  the  steady  torrents  with  a  discordant  yawp 
that  made  the  little  shanty  ring. 

Taf t  gazed  thoughtfully  after  him  as  he  vaulted 
into  the  saddle  and  rode  off  with  a  good  deal  of 
unnecessary  heel-and-toe  exercise  in  the  region  of 
the  animal's  ribs.  The  restive  mare  apparently 
resented  the  ungentle  treatment,  for  the  last  that 
was  seen  of  mount  and  rider  was  a  profile  rampant 
against  the  blank  white  expanse  of  the  closing 
mists  ere  they  were  enveloped  in  the  opaque  multi 
tudinous  folds. 

"They  tell  me  that  Gawd  made  man,"  said 
Taft  at  last.  "  'Pears  ter  me  ez  the  Almighty 
slighted  that  job,  sure." 

Kenniston  was  a  man  of  painfully  orderly 
instincts.  He  could  not  satisfactorily  resume 
the  conversation  without  gathering  up  the  poker, 
the  lifter,  and  other  appurtenances  of  the  stove 
which  Ross  had  scattered  about  the  little  zinc 
square  on  which  it  sat,  replacing  them,  rearrang 
ing  the  writing  materials,  newspapers,  tobacco,  and 
cigars  on  the  table,  and  stirring  the  fire  to  bright 
ness  and  a  possibility  of  burning.  As  he  threw 
himself  into  his  chair  he  marked  how  the  encroach- 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  359 

ing  mists  had  invested  the  house.  Not  half  a 
dozen  paces  of  the  path  remained  visible  from  the 
door ;  even  upon  the  threshold  the  vapor  hung  in 
vague  white  wreaths,  to  vanish  in  the  heat,  and  be 
replaced  by  white  clouds  floating  in  with  a  rolling 
motion,  —  never  disappearing  utterly,  but  ventur 
ing  no  further.  On  the  roof  and  in  the  invisibili 
ties  of  the  white  mists  outside  they  could  hear  the 
chilly  rain  still  steadily  falling.  The  seeming 
isolation  gave  a  certain  confidential  character  to 
the  conversation  even  before  its  developments  war 
ranted  this. 

"How  did  the  percessionin'  turn  out?"  Taft 
demanded. 

"The  rain  stopped  it,"  returned  Kenniston, 
gloomily  eying  the  thickening  mists,  while  Taft 
critically  but  covertly  observed  him. 

"Satisfied  ez  fur  ez  it  went,  I  s'pose?"  Taft 
flicked  off  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and  pressed 
down  the  remainder  of  its  contents  with  that  sala 
mander  of  a  forefinger. 

"  No,"  said  Kenniston  irritably.  "  It  is  a  great 
surprise  to  me." 

"Mr.  Kenniston,"  said  Taft,  with  that  blunt 
directness  which  so  commended  him  to  the  experi 
enced  man  and  so  warped  his  judgment,  "  that 
thar  Big  Hollow  Boulder,  the  beginning  o'  yer 
survey,  hev  been  bodaciously  moved." 

Kenniston  lifted  his  head  suddenly,  the  excite 
ment  of  the  moment  showing  red  in  his  face.  A 
half-scornful  incredulity  was  in  his  eyes,  almost  on 


360  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

his  lips.  He  was  about  to  speak;  then  paused 
doubtfully.  The  testimony  of  his  recollections  of 
Cap'n  Lucy's  significant  insistence  on  the  phrase 
"  Big  Hollow  Boulder  "  and  a  thousand  satiric  allu 
sions  to  the  stationary  functions  of  a  monument  of 
boundary  overwhelmed  him  for  the  moment;  for 
their  incongruity  with  a  culpable  knowledge  or 
agency  in  the  fact  was  more  than  inexplicable  ; 
it  was  mysterious.  There  needed  no  dexterous 
jugglery  with  phrase  and  fact,  however,  to  account 
for  Luther's  furtive,  hang-dog  manner  and  averted 
eye. 

"  It  seems  impossible !  But  I  will  not  believe 
that  old  man  Lucy  had  anything  to  do  with  mov 
ing  it,"  Kenniston  began.  He  suddenly  caught 
his  lip  and  bit  it  hard.  It  was  evident  from  his 
flaunting  remarks  that  the  old  mountaineer  had 
not  been  similarly  generous  to  his  neighbor. 

"A  heap  o'  land,"  suggested  the  politic  Taft. 
"  But  then  I  s'pose  ter  run  yer  eastern  line  out 
would  show  whar  yer  corner  is  ?  "  He  asked  the 
question  eagerly. 

"  Oh  no.  Calls  for  permanent  natural  objects 
usually  control  calls  for  distance.  I  suppose  that 
rule  would  hold  fast  in  this  instance.  My  east 
ern  line  can  only  run  to  the  boulder,  which  is  pre 
sumably  immovable." 

Taft's  countenance  fell.  He  had  thought  that 
the  further  survey  of  the  eastern  boundary  would 
serve  to  reestablish  the  corner  where  the  boulder 
should  be ;  on  the  contrary,  Cap'n  Lucy  was  invested 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  361 

with  many  hundred  acres  for  which  he  had  given 
no  equivalent  in  goods,  or  money,  or  even  occu 
pancy. 

"  I  saw  that  something  was  mighty  wrong  with 
the  line  that  the  surveyor  was  running ;  and  so  did 
Cap'n  Lucy,  for  that  matter,"  said  Kenniston, 
revolving  the  events  of  the  processioning.  "  He 
looked  dumfounded  when  he  saw  Wild  Duck 
Falls  in  his  boundary,  and  the  hotel,  —  or  rather 
the  place  where  the  hotel  ought  to  be." 

Taft  caught  a  quick  inspiration.  "  That 's  it,  — 
them  boys  is  a-moonshinin'  fur  true.  They  must 
hev  moved  the  boulder  ter  crowd  ye  out  of  a 
buildin'  site.  An'  then  they  burnt  the  hotel." 

"  Well,  they  've  got  me  pretty  badly  crowded,  — 
I  '11  say  that  for  them." 

Kenniston  was  looking  out  of  the  door,  with 
that  sullen  sense  of  injury  and  hopelessness 
which  oppresses  a  city  man  in  the  country  in  bad 
weather.  The  world  had  slipped  away,  somehow ; 
he  was  left  to  the  vague  unresponsiveness  of  the 
inexpressive  white  mists  ;  the  rain  would  probably 
continue  forever ;  the  day  was  of  a  longevity 
known  to  no  other  that  had  ever  dawned;  with 
out  the  prompting  of  his  watch  he  could  not  have 
said  if  it  were  morning  or  afternoon.  The  roof 
leaked;  the  boots  of  his  uncouth  visitors  tracked 
up  the  floor  with  red  clay  mud.  A  saddle  in  one 
corner  gave  out  an  obtrusive  odor  of  leather,  and 
the  monkey  stove,  despite  all  this  dankness,  filled 
the  room  with  that  baking,  dry,  afflicting  aroma 


362  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

common  to  all  its  kindred.  His  pugnacity  was 
abated  under  these  untoward  conditions ;  his  en 
thusiasms  were  overwhelmed  beneath  the  depres 
sion  of  the  rain.  He  thought  wistfully  of  Breton- 
ville,  and  of  a  cosy  corner  in  the  reading-room  of 
a  certain  club,  and  of  his  office,  and  sighed  as  his 
mind  reverted  to  the  jeopardy  of  the  present,  the 
futility  of  the  money  and  thought  he  had  spent 
here,  and  the  froward  tangle  which  must  needs  be 
untwisted  if  these  unpromising  assets  were  to  be 
utilized  at  all. 

"Mus'  hev  been  Lar'bee  an'  Espey  a-moon- 
shinin'."  Taft  once  more  sought  to  prompt  that 
inimical  sense  of  injury.  "  An'  moved  the  boulder 
bodaciously,  —  the  corner  landmark." 

"  A  felony,"  said  Kenniston  thoughtfully. 

The  patter  of  the  rain  came  heavily  through  the 
silence,  and  in  that  bleak  whiteness  without  they 
heard  far  away  the  wind  rousing  from  its  lair  in 
furthest  defiles.  The  terrors  of  its  voice  did  not 
shake  the  mists  ;  only  the  sound  touched  a  respon 
sive  chord  of  feeling,  and  the  day  was  the  drearier 
for  the  broken  stillness. 

"  A  felony,"  he  said,  and  fell  a-musing.  He 
vaguely  repudiated  the  idea,  and  then  bethought 
himself,  contradictorily,  of  the  strange  subterfuge 
with  which  he  had  been  summoned  to  the  door. 
For  no  harm,  surely,  he  argued.  There  was  a 
certain  fascination  in  the  thought  of  the  new  star 
that  the  mountaineer  had  brought  to  his  con 
templation.  Not  a  bad  face,  this  star-gazer's, 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  363 

and  with  a  coloring  which  had  always  commended 
itself  to  his  artistic  sense.  A  good  face  and  finely 
cut,  he  would  have  said  but  for  that  association  of 
ideas,  "  a  felony,"  that  sudden  conscious  expres 
sion  as  of  some  guilty  knowledge  of  the  burning 
of  the  hotel.  He  could  not  believe  it  of  his  star- 
gazer,  with  his  elated  upward  look!  He  remem 
bered  afterward  that  he  thought  then  that  the 
dankness  of  the  weather,  in  relaxing  all  manner  of 
tension,  had  slackened  his  rigid  standards  and  his 
taut  personal  exactions.  He  was  morally  limp, 
doubtless,  as  well  as  physically ;  but  he  shrunk 
from  the  phrase  in  this  application,  and  he  consid 
ered  that  the  most  definite  sensation  of  that  most 
indefinite  day  was  the  relief  he  experienced  when 
Rodolphus  Ross  came  plunging  out  of  the  mists. 

In  high  dudgeon  the  deputy  was  with  the  events 
and  results  of  his  mission,  and  he  had  wreaked  his 
resentment  on  the  unoffending  animal  which  he 
rode.  The  mare's  sides  showed  the  marks  of  his 
stinging  lash,  and  she  had  retaliated  as  well  as  she 
could  by  perversely  refusing  to  pause  where  he 
wished  to  dismount  to  avoid  the  pools.  A  false 
start  or  two  dragged  him  through  water  knee-deep, 
and  as  he  came  into  the  house  his  eyes  were  flashing 
with  his  various  anger,  and  his  lip  curled  scornfully. 

"  I  tell  ye,"  he  said  to  Taft,  with  his  fractious 
mirthfulness,  "  thar  's  money  in  that  brat  o'  yourn, 
that  Cornelia  Taft !  Buy  her  a  muzzle  an'  a  chain 
an'  jine  a  show,  an'  she  '11  draw  a  crowd  ez  the 
Leetle  She-B'ar  o'  Persimmon  Cove !  Bless  my 


364  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

boots  !  I  'm  glad  I  'm  all  hyar.  The  leetle  b'ar 
like  ter  tore  me  ter  fringes !  "  he  exclaimed  met 
aphorically.  He  canted  his  head  mockingly  to 
one  side  as  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair  beside  the 
stove,  seized  the  poker,  and  administered  a  rousing 
shake.  "  I  tell  you  what,"  he  said,  eying  Taft 
gloweringly,  "  I  'd  keep  her  nails  an'  teeth  well 
pruned,  my  friend." 

For  Miss  Cornelia  Taft  and  Rodolphus  Ross 
had  failed  signally  to  hit  it  off  amicably.  Copley 
had  watched  the  interview  through  the  open  door 
of  the  store  with  varying  emotions  of  anxiety : 
first,  lest  Ross  was  a  "  revenuer  "  or  a  spy ;  then, 
lest,  as  an  officer  of  the  state  law,  he  had  some 
charge  against  them ;  again,  lest  he  cause  Sis  some 
apprehension ;  and  lastly,  lest  the  temerity  of  the 
doughty  Sis  bring  woe  and  wreck  upon  the  devoted 
household.  Joe  cowered  in  a  corner  of  the  fire 
place,  leaning  against  the  great  jamb,  essaying  only 
a  few  of  the  writhings  and  twistings  of  his  anatomy 
which  he  affected,  and  sometimes  sitting  still  al 
together,  so  did  the  interest  of  the  colloquy  over 
master  the  tendency  of  his  muscles. 

"  Hello,  youngsters !  "  was  Ross's  affable  greet 
ing  as  he  tramped  in  when  Joe  opened  the  door. 
He  flung  himself  into  a  chair  before  the  fire,  then 
turned  and  surveyed  Cornelia,  whose  prim,  pale, 
precise  face  looked  more  unfriendly  and  forbidding 
and  negative  than  usual,  as  she  sat,  her  hands  de 
murely  crossed  on  her  lap,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  fireplace. 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  365 

"  My  Lord !  is  this  all  ?  I  'lowed  yer  dad  hed 
a  heap  bigger  gal  'n  you.  Some  similar  ter  a 
shrunk-up  gran'mammy ;  ye  look  like  ye  mought 
hev  lasted  sence  the  flood.  How  's  yer  fambly, 

•,  O    99 

ma  am  ? 

The  juvenile  heart  resents  a  scoff.  Cornelia 
Taft's  faculties  were  limited,  but  she  gathered  her 
self  for  revenge. 

"  Waal,  then,"  he  demanded,  as  she  sat  stiffly 
silent  and  insulted,  "  how  's  rats  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  jedge,"  she  piped  up  suddenly. 
"  We-uns  hain't  hed  a  terrier  happen  in  hyar  afore 
now  fur  a  consider 'ble  time." 

He  was  fairly  silenced  for  the  nonce.  Elated  by 
the  execution  of  her  sally,  and  not  propitiated  by 
his  subsequent  effort  to  ignore  this  passage  at  arms, 
she  took  full  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  harass 
him  which  was  presented  when  he  announced  him 
self  an  officer  of  the  law,  and  demanded  to  know 
when  and  where  she  had  seen  Larrabee  the  last 
time.  No  perverse  adult  witness  could  have  more 
dexterously  baffled  him  with  indefinite  statements ; 
and  when  he  appealed  from  her  to  Joe,  whose 
clumsy  efforts  to  remember  were  hopelessly  inade 
quate,  her  open  glee  was  peculiarly  tantalizing  to 
Ross  ;  for  none  can  so  resent  a  jest  as  a  confirmed 
joker.  Then  it  was  that  he  made  his  fatal  false 
step. 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Small  Female,  leetle  ez  ye  be, 
I  '11  arrest  you-uns  an'  kerry  ye  off  ter  jail,  ef  ye 
don't  spry  up  an'  answer  my  question." 


366  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

And  then  it  was  that  Sis,  bracing  her  small 
back,  defied  the  majesty  of  the  State  of  Tennessee 
as  exemplified  in  Rodolphus  Ross.  So  it  came  to 
open  war.  She  was  animated,  too,  by  a  partisan 
spirit  for  Larrabee.  She  remembered,  with  her 
infrequent  approval,  how  he  had  conducted  himself 
on  the  occasion  in  question  ;  how  quiet,  how  gentle, 
he  was,  how  observant  of  the  graces  of  her  house 
keeping,  how  commendatory  of  her  dominion  over 
Joe.  Their  conversation  had  since  been  often  in 
her  mind ;  she  had  rehearsed  it,  as  she  sat  in  the 
gloaming  on  her  stool  before  the  flickering  fire, 
with  the  history  of  the  Biblical  worthies  of  which 
it  was  redundant.  With  no  one  else  could  she  talk 
of  these  things.  With  quick  adulation  she  had 
transformed  Larrabee  into  a  hero,  and  she  longed  to 
see  him  again.  Her  tongue,  being  feminine,  could 
not  be  held  altogether,  but  she  told  Ross  naught 
which  he  desired  to  hear.  She  sounded  the  praises 
of  Larrabee  on  many  a  key,  and  "  disremembered  " 
persistently  whether  it  was  Friday  or  Monday,  or 
last  week  or  week  before,  when  she  had  seen  him. 

"  Waal,  what  war  he  a-doin'  of  hyar,  ennyhows  ?  " 
queried  Ross. 

"  Talkin'." 

"  'Bout  what,  gal  ?  " 

"  'Bout  no  gal,"  Miss  Taft  responded,  with  a 
flash  of  the  eye. 

"  Waal,  then,"  —  even  he  was  fain  to  concede,  in 
the  hope  of  finding  some  thoroughfare  in  thus  beat 
ing  about  the  bush,  —  "  'bout  what  boy  ?  " 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  367 

She  hesitated.  She  had  not  intended  to  cheapen 
the  subject  of  her  interest  and  enthusiasm  by  men 
tion  in  this  queer  symposium.  The  talk  with  Lar- 
rabee  had  been  in  the  nature  of  a  confidence,  as  in 
the  admiring  canvass  of  mutual  friends  ;  she  had  a 
sense  as  if  it  were  not  the  thing  for  general  public 
and  unworthy  conversation.  Nevertheless,  her  af 
finity  for  the  subject  constrained  her.  There  was 
a  light  in  her  face,  a  placid  softening  of  feature. 
Her  flabby  little  colorless  cheek  mustered  up  a 
dimple. 

44  'Bout  Sam'l,"  she  said,  with  a  smile. 

"  Sam'l  who  ?  "  he  demanded  keenly. 

Sis  hesitated,  suddenly  posed.  "I  —  I  disre- 
member  his  — his  —  surname,"  she  admitted. 

"  Did  ye  see  him  with  Lar'bee?"  he  asked,  his 
big  pertinacious  eyes  on  her  face,  expectant  of  im 
mediate  developments. 

"I  —  I  ain't  never  seen  him.  I  —  I  reckon  "  — 
it  seemed  too  terrible  to  contemplate  —  "I  reckon 
he  mus'  be  —  daid."  She  had  never  before  looked 
upon  it  in  this  light,  and  her  heart  sank. 

"  Friend  o'  Lar  bee's  ?  "  he  persisted. 

"  I  reckon  so  ;  he  hed  read  'bout  him." 

"Kead  'bout  him?  Whar?  In  the  'Colb'ry 
Gazette '  ?  "  He  lowered  his  voice  respectfully,  for 
to  him  personal  mention  in  the  '  Colbury  Gazette ' 
meant  fame. 

"  Naw.  In  the  Bible,  o'  course,"  said  Sis,  stiffly 
reproving. 

He  stared  at  her  in  blank  amaze  for  a  moment ; 


368  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

then  he  smote  his  leg  a  sounding  thwack,  and 
burst  into  a  howl  of  derisive  laughter. 

"Ye  an'  Lar'bee  hed  a  pray'r-meetin',  did  ye? 
An',  my  son,"  he  continued  through  his  nose  with 
a  sanctimonious  whine,  turning  to  Joe,  "  did  ye 
lead  the  saints  in  supplication,  or  raise  the  hyme- 
chune  ?  " 

Joe  responded  with  a  fat  chuckle  of  delighted 
laughter,  rejoiced  to  see  his  Mentor,  the  professor 
of  many  novel  and  distasteful  arts  of  household 
economy,  put  to  ridicule  and  out  of  countenance. 

It  was  only  for  a  moment.  She  turned  acridly 
against  the  domestic  insurgent. 

"  He,  tuned  up  arterward.  Joe  done  his  quiriri' 
arter  Lar'bee  war  gone,  an'  the  wind  riz,  an'  the 
rain  kem  down.  He  wisht  an'  wisht  Lar'bee  hed 
bided.  He  fairly  blated  fur  skeer !  " 

"  I  never !  "  protested  Joe  in  pouting  indignation. 
"  /  war  n't  'feared  o'  the  wind  an'  rain,  nare  one  ! 
'T  war  the  racket  them  dead  ones  kep'  up  in  the 
Los'  Time  mine  diggin'  thar  graves.  This  hyar 
house  air  right  over  the  mine." 

Eoss's  great  shifting  wild  eyes  widened  as  he 
looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Thar  ain't  no  dead  ones  diggin'  thar  graves !  " 
cried  Sis  didactically.  She  must  needs  spend  too 
many  lonely  hours  here  for  that  suggestion  to  be  a 
welcome  one.  "  Them  ez  dig  ain't  dead.  Dad  say 
jes'  some  boys,  he  reckon,  a-moonshinin'  or  sech  of 
a  night  in  the  Lost  Time  mine." 

Eodolphus  Eoss  rose  to  his  feet.     He  was  elated, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  369 

confident.  He  snapped  his  fingers  noisily  in  the 
air  as  he  took  two  or  three  of  the  sidevvay  paces 
usually  preliminary  to  a  clog  dance,  which  accom 
plishment  he  had  acquired  by  viewing  what  he 
termed  a  "  minstrel  show."  He  had  long  suspected 
Larrabee  of  moonshining,  and  here  was  the  locus 
in  quo.  He  had  said  that  Larrabee's  trail  had 
seemed  to  disappear  from  the  face  of  the  earth ; 
with  what  literal  reason  he  had  not  dreamed.  Not 
withstanding  his  haste,  however,  he  must  needs 
tarry  for  a  fleer. 

"  Gran'mammy  Taft,"  he  said,  leering  at  the 
little  girl,  with  her  prim,  antique  aspect,  "  I  never 
thunk  ter  find  ye  hobnobbin'  with  moonshiners." 

"Lar'bee  ain't  no  moonshiner,"  she  protested, 
with  swift  alarm. 

He  joyed  in  her  evident  flutter. 

"  Ah,  gran'mammy  Taft,  ye  kin  consider  yerse'f 
under  arrest  fur  aidin'  an'  abettin'  in  moonshinin', 
ye  an'  all  yer  fambly." 

"  Ye  ain't  no  revenuer !  "  cried  Sis,  moving  back 
a  step,  however.  "  Ye  ain't  'lowed  ter  purtend  ter 
be  one,  nuther.  I  hearn  o'  a  man  in  Persimmon 
Cove  ez  purtended  ter  be  a  off'cer  o'  the  law,  an' 
got  'rested  hisse'f .  An'  I  would  hev  thunk  enny- 
ways  ez  ye  hed  heel  enough  o'  arrestin'  folks  fur 
fun,  sence  that  time  ye  flung  Lar'bee  over  the 
bluffs,  an'  nigh  kilt  him.  Ef  ye  be  so  sharp  set 
ter  'rest  ennybody,  go  find  Jack  Espey  an'  'rest 
him." 

Ross  was  out  of   countenance.     Nevertheless  — 


370  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

"  How  many  j'ints  hev  her  tongue  got  ?  "  he  de 
manded  of  Joe,  with  a  feint  of  serious  interest. 

But  Joe  had  deserted  to  the  enemy.  He  thought 
that  Sis  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  Ross's  threat  at 
once  angered  and  terrified  him.  He  received  with 
pouting  silence  the  officer's  aside,  while  Sis  went  on 
triumphantly  :  — 

"  Dad  say  my  granny  Jiniway  air  kin  somehows 
ter  the  high  sher'ff's  wife;  an'  whenst  I  go  ter 
Colb'ry  nex'  week  with  dad,  I  be  goin'  ter  go  ter 
her  house  an'  ax  the  high  sher'ff  ef  he  'lows  his 
dep'ties  ter  arrest  people  fur  joke,  an'  purtend  ter 
be  revenue  ofFcers,  an'  skeer  leetle  gals  by  arrestin' 
'em,  an'  'lowin'  he'll  take  the  whole  fambly  fur 
moonshinin'.  My  granny  Jini way's  third  cousin 
air  the  high  sher'fFs  wife  !  " 

In  the  face  of  this  genealogical  detail,  it  was 
with  a  somewhat  subdued  spirit  that  Ross  mounted 
the  mare  and  set  forth  on  his  return  ;  for  the  high 
sheriff  was  a  man  with  a  most  attenuated  sense  of 
humor,  a  literal  interpretation  of  the  duties  of  his 
office,  and  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Ross's 
willingness  to  ride  long  distances,  in  all  manner  of 
weather,  relieved  him  of  this  the  most  irksome  of 
duties  to  an  inert  temperament,  he  had  begun  to 
look  doubtfully  upon  him,  particularly  since  the 
untoward  result  of  the  facetious  arrest  of  the  sup 
posed  Larrabee,  and  Ross  felt  that  his  tenure  was 
not  altogether  secure.  As  he  passed  the  portal  of 
the  Lost  Time  mine,  the  thought  of  his  quest  re 
curred  to  his  mind,  and  the  important  clue  which  he 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  371 

deemed  he  had  obtained  from  the  little  girl's  con 
versation.  He  no  longer  considered  it  important, 
for  from  the  rough-hewn  portal  of  the  cavern 
poured  forth  the  compressed  stream  of  the  divers 
subterranean  currents,  gathered  together  and  hurled 
forth  in  a  great  spout,  and  with  a  plunging  force 
that  astonished  him,  remembering  as  he  did  the 
far  tamer  flow  of  the  earlier  season.  He  ascribed 
the  change  to  the  persistent  autumn  rains  flooding 
some  watercourse  that  doubtless  pierced  the  hidden 
chambers.  It  filled  the  outlet  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  summit  of  the  arch.  Any  entrance  here  was 
impossible ;  as  for  another  opening  to  the  mine,  he 
looked  about  him  upon  the  limitless  tangled  wil 
derness  of  wood  and  rock,  the  shifting  beclouding 
mists,  the  endless  skeins  of  the  rain,  and  he  swore 
between  his  big  front  teeth  an  oath  which,  despite 
the  grotesque  humor  of  its  phraseology,  had  within 
it  all  the  bitter  profanity  of  his  baffling  disappoint 
ment.  And  in  default  of  aught  else  on  which  to 
wreak  his  anger,  he  cruelly  lashed  Taft's  mare ; 
and  so  he  went  down  to  join  the  others  at  Kennis- 
ton's  quarters  amongst  the  shanties  of  the  workmen 
in  the  Cove. 


XIX. 

THAT  night,  the  rain,  beating  out  its  strong 
staccato  rhythm  on  the  old  clapboards  roofing  the 
barn,  made  scant  impression  on  Jasper  Larrabee's 
senses ;  he  slept  soundly  amongst  the  great  elastic 
billows  of  the  hay.  As  by  degrees  the  downpour 
slackened,  the  comparative  silence  affected  his 
half-dormant  consciousness  as  sound  had  failed  to 
do.  He  roused  slightly  from  time  to  time,  and 
presently  was  broad  awake,  to  hear  only  the  mel 
ancholy  drip  from  the  eaves  and  the  chorus  of 
far-away  frogs  beginning  to  pipe  anew  along  the 
pools.  He  did  not  welcome  his  other  self,  that 
mysterious  essence  of  thought  and  will  that  was 
torn  with  hopes  and  fed  on  regrets,  and  was  prone 
to  hold  troublous  disputations  with  yet  another 
inner  self,  which  on  its  part  was  always  keen  to 
find  out  every  fault,  to  upbraid  each  cherished  sin, 
and  had  an  ugly  trick  of  unmasking  and  setting 
in  a  strong  unflattering  light  motives  which  might 
otherwise  seem  to  be  above  suspicion.  The  hum 
bler  obvious  entity  known  as  Jasper  Larrabee 
would,  he  often  thought,  be  happier  without  so 
definite  a  development  of  either  of  these  endow 
ments,  his  mind  or  his  conscience  ;  for  thus  he 
learned  from  their  functions  to  differentiate  them. 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  373 

When  this  Jasper  Larrabee  was  well  fed,  he  was 
hearty  and  happy.  The  sun  shone  on  him,  and 
he  sang  till  the  woods  rang.  When  he  went  down 
into  the  sunless  depths  of  the  Lost  Time  mine, 
every  strong  muscle  rejoiced  in  the  work,  and  his 
steady  nerve,  which  is  called  courage,  gave  a  zest 
to  danger,  whether  the  menace  were  of  the  law,  or 
of  the  wild  beast  in  the  wilderness,  or  of  the  civil 
ized  savage  amongst  his  own  associates.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  his  mind  forever  asking  "Why?" 
and  his  conscience  grimly  protesting  "Because," 
what  a  thriving,  well-balanced  physical  organization 
Jasper  Larrabee  might  have  been !  He  knew 
others  who  were  little  more  than  body,  who  asked 
no  questions  and  heard  no  answers  ;  he  held  them 
far  the  happier  for  it,  and  he  did  not  realize  how 
much  the  duller.  And  so  he  hated  the  "  Why  ?  " 
and  flinched  from  the  "  Because."  And  here  they 
were  in  company,  these  choice  spirits,  in  the  sud 
denly  silent  midnight,  with  only  the  melancholy 
drip  at  long  intervals  from  the  eaves,  the  vague 
piping  of  frogs  sounding  afar  off  and  failing  again, 
and  that  strange  preponderating  sense  of  the  prox 
imity  of  the  mountains  although  enshrouded  and 
invisible  in  the  mist.  The  sibilant  rustle  of  the  hay 
was  loud  in  the  stillness  as  he  shifted  his  posture. 
He  shifted  it  often,  being  anxious  and  restless, 
for  his  brace  of  companions  were  more  censorious 
even  than  their  wont  as  to  that  limited  cheerful 
physique  which  he  accounted  Jasper  Larrabee. 
He  had  had  naught  to  eat  but  a  few  handfuls  of 


374  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

grapes  from  the  vines  that  clambered  over  the 
gable  of  the  barn,  and  some  unpalatable  raw  eggs 
found  among  the  hay ;  and  this  fact  of  hunger 
gave  a  mighty  grip  to  the  poignancy  of  "  Because." 
He  had  had  naught  to  do  all  the  long  rainy  day 
but  to  lie  in  the  hay  and  look  out  through  the 
crevices  of  the  logs  at  the  queer  acorn-like  roof  of 
his  mother's  house,  that  had  welcomed  so  many,  and 
had  no  place  now  for  him  or  for  her.  He  watched 
with  all  the  grief  of  an  exile  the  children  coming 
and  going,  and  the  gaunt  Mrs.  Tim  son  wielding  an 
unbridled  authority,  making  the  most  of  her  usur 
pations  ;  he  heard,  with  the  indignant  objection  that 
naturally  appertains  to  the  heir  to  the  throne,  her 
raucous  raised  voice  in  objurgation  or  command. 
Again  and  again  these  sounds  came  from  the  opaque 
blankness  of  the  mist ;  for  often  the  clouds  obscured 
the  little  house  altogether,  and  crowded  through 
the  crevices  of  the  barn,  and  shifted  back  and  forth. 
For  the  reason  of  the  continuous  fog  he  had  delayed 
to  inform  the  officer  of  the  law  and  deliver  Espey  to 
him.  Doubtless,  in  the  idleness  of  his  solitary  day 
in  the  mine,  Espey  would  be  alert  and  hear  an  ap 
proach,  and  might  escape  through  some  aperture  of 
the  cavern  other  than  the  main  entrance  ;  the  thick 
mists  would  then  conceal  him  indubitably,  and  fur 
ther  his  flight  without  the  slightest  scruple  as  to 
responsibility  as  accessory  after  the  fact.  Larrabee 
was  waiting  for  the  darkness  that  he  might  take 
Espey  the  more  certainly,  while  his  vigilance  was 
relaxed  in  working  at  the  forlorn  enterprise  of  old 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  375 

Haight  and  his  lieutenant  "  Tawm  "  in  the  mine. 
But  in  waiting  Larrabee  had  fallen  aslee/p,  and  the 
iteration  of  the  steady  rainfall  was  somnolent  in  its 
effects,  and  the  hours  drowsed  by.  He  knew  that 
it  was  past  midnight  before  he  noted  the  slant  of  a 
late-risen  moon,  golden,  lustrous,  dreamlike,  softly 
shining  through  the  crevices  of  the  logs  in  one  cor 
ner  of  the  ramshackle  old  place.  The  sky  was 
clearing,  then.  He  rose  hastily  to  his  feet,  and 
leaned  out  of  the  window.  Clear !  It  was  of  a 
deeply  limpid  and  definite  blue,  with  white  and 
gray  clouds,  moon-illumined,  drawing  back  swiftly 
from  vast  expanses  of  this  lucid  ether  all  a-sparkle 
with  the  whiteness  of  the  stars.  With  the  dank 
earth  so  dark  below,  and  the  dully  glamourous 
light  of  the  moon  in  her  last  quarter,  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  had  never  seen  the  stars  so  splendidly 
white.  The  next  moment  a  sudden  pang  of  sus 
pense,  of  fear,  that  was  like  a  bodily  throe  had 
wrested  away  his  breath.  He  hardly  realized  that 
he  had  moved  ;  he  only  knew  that  he  had  sprung 
down  the  rotting  rungs  of  the  old  ladder  and  through 
the  barn  below,  because  he  was  standing  outside 
the  door  upon  the  ground,  gazing  up,  bareheaded, 
wild-eyed,  in  a  frenzy  of  doubt,  of  anxiety,  of  a 
sort  of  unreasoning  terror,  at  the  skies.  For  the 
star  —  his  star  —  was  gone  !  It  had  vanished  ! 
Again  and  again,  with  the  strong  pulse  of  hope,  he 
swept  the  heavens  with  eager  search.  Afterward 
he  thought  he  remembered  a  dull  leaden-hued  mi 
nute  object  in  the  place  of  that  splendid  silver  shin- 


37(5  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

ing  that  had  made  his  heart  so  glad.  It  had  van 
ished,  —  its  message  withheld,  its  mystery  unre- 
vealed,  like  an  illusion,  like  a  fagged-out  enthusiasm, 
like  the  futile  words  of  a  prayer  without  the  fervor 
of  faith.  He  could  not  believe  it.  Again  and 
again  he  sought  a  new  posture,  a  new  hope.  He 
followed  its  closer  neighbors  along  the  steeps  of 
the  mountain  as  they  journeyed  toward  the  west  in 
the  sky  above.  The  tint  of  the  heavens  was  chang 
ing  presently,  —  a  lighter  blue.  The  golden  moon 
grew  of  a  pearl-like  lustre.  The  stars  waxed  faint. 
The  clouds  were  red.  And  here  was  the  gray  day 
hard  upon  him,  and  in  the  earth  naught  of  value, 
for  in  the  sky  he  had  lost  a  star.  How  strong, 
how  resistless  of  advance,  was  the  riding  up  of  the 
great  sun !  Get  ye  away,  illusions,  and  glamours, 
and  dreamers  of  dreams  !  Such  a  definite  visible 
world  !  How  full  of  fixed  facts  !  He  saw,  as  he 
stood,  the  shanties  of  the  workmen  in  the  Cove, 
where  the  mists  were  hustling  off  in  great  haste, 
as  if  too  tenuous,  too  unsubstantial,  too  inutile,  to 
hold  ground  in  the  face  of  the  strong  practicalities 
dawning  over  the  horizon.  The  smoke  was  curling 
up  from  the  chimney  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  cabin, 
where  breakfast  was  cooking.  The  cows  were  at 
the  bars.  All  the  woods  were  lustrous  with  moist 
ure,  and  splendidly  a-glint  with  the  yellow  sun 
beams  striking  aslant  through  them.  The  distant 
mountains  were  blue  and  amethyst  and  violet  and 
purple,  —  a  rhapsody  of  color.  Here  and  there,  as 
if  the  rain  had  painted  them,  boughs  of  sumach  and 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  377 

sourwood  were  scarlet  in  the  woods  ;  the  sweet-gum 
showed  flecks  of  purple  leaves,  and  the  hickory  had 
occasional  flares  of  yellow.  The  goldenrod  had 
burst  into  bloom,  and  with  this  seal  of  the  autum 
nal  season  stamped  upon  the  land  came  Julia  along 
the  road,  her  bonnet  hanging  on  her  shoulders,  her 
head  bare,  her  face  like  spring  itself,  her  hands 
full  of  flowers  that  she  scattered  as  she  sang.  How 
her  fresh  young  voice  rang  against  the  turmoil  of 
the  current  from  the  Lost  Time  mine,  like  some 
sudden  burst  of  joy  from  out  the  fretted  tides  of 
a  troubled  life  !  As  she  tossed  the  flowers,  and 
glanced  over  her  shoulder  to  see  where  they  fell, 
Larrabee  crossed  the  log  laid  from  one  deeply  gul 
lied  bank  to  the  other  side  of  the  road,  to  serve  foot 
passengers  when  the  water  was  high  in  wet  weather. 
She  paused,  and  looked  at  him  with  a  frown.  The 
unwonted  corrugations  in  her  fair  young  brow 
changed  her  inexpressive  face  almost  out  of  recog 
nition.  He  stood  in  silent  deprecation  for  a  mo 
ment.  His  heart  was  sore.  His  life  was  full  of 
trouble  of  many  sorts  and  degrees.  That  aesthetic 
loss,  that  sense  of  bereavement  because  of  his  van 
ished  star,  outrankled  them  all. 

Courage  is  of  the  nature  of  an  essence ;  one  may 
not  judge  how  it  will  pull  the  beam,  nor  is  it  dis 
pensed  by  dry  measure.  Something  seemingly  in 
adequate,  a  breath  of  wind,  a  change  of  mind,  or 
the  chilling  of  the  fervors  of  some  futile  and  foolish 
enthusiasm,  and  behold  the  volatile  element  is  dis 
persed  through  the  air.  The  strain  on  Larrabee' s 


378  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

nerves  had  been  great.  His  sensibilities  had  waxed 
tender.  He  faltered  before  the  definite  bending  of 
those  delicately  marked  brows. 

"  Ye  air  out  betimes,  Julia  ?  "  he  ventured  pro- 
pitiatingly,  as  she  stoutly  maintained  silence. 
"  What  be  ye  a-doin'  of  with  them  flowers  ?  " 

"  So  win'  'em,"  said  Julia  instantly.  "  I  expec' 
'em  ter  bloom  thar  in  the  road  ter  mo'  purpose  'n 
they  ever  did  afore." 

He  cast  a  glance  of  wonderment  at  her.  But 
her  unfriendly  manner,  her  cold  eye,  disconcerted 
him  afresh,  and  nullified  his  surprise  at  her  words. 

"  Air  you-uns  mad  at  me  down  at  yer  house  ?  " 
he  demanded  eagerly. 

"  What  fur  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  keen,  belligerent 
look  that  was  mightily  like  Cap'n  Lucy. 

"'Bout  my  speakin'  so  free  'bout  Espey,  an' 
Cap'n  Lucy  not  warnin'  me  an'  my  mother,  knowin' 
him  ter  be  sought  fur  murder  ?  " 

"  Oh !  "  she  cried,  with  airy  causticity.  "  I  hed 
furgot  it." 

He  felt  the  covert  fleer  of  this  speedy  dismissal. 
But  with  him  pride  was  at  a  low  ebb.  He  silently 
looked  at  her  as  she  held  a  cardinal  flower  to  her 
red  lips,  while  her  long-lashed  blue  eyes  scanned 
the  dewy  bunch  of  jewel-weed  and  mountain  snow 
and  wild  asters  that  filled  her  hands.  The  wind 
swayed  her  dark  blue  skirt  as  she  stood  on  a  great 
fragment  of  rock  beside  the  running  stream.  It 
gave  a  certain  volant  effect  to  her  pose,  her  flower- 
laden  hands,  her  singular  beauty ;  she  seemed  the 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  379 

very  genius  of  the  flowering  season,  its  perfect  per 
sonification. 

"  Waal,  I  'm  glad  o'  that,"  he  said  humbly.  "  I 
need  all  ray  friends,  an'  all  the  comfort  I  kin  git." 

He  paused,  daunted  in  a  measure  by  her  unre- 
sponsiveness.  But  she  was  always  silent,  always 
undemonstrative,  and  perhaps  her  manner  in  this 
instance  went  for  less  than  its  worth. 

"Julia,"  he  said,  "  J  hev  hed  a  powerful  strange 
'sperience  lately.  An'  it  hev  cast  me  down  might 
ily.  Not  religious,  —  though  I  expected  suthin' 
leadin'  an'  speritual  out'n  it.  I  viewed  a  new  star 
in  the  sky." 

She  was  looking  at  the  flowers  on  the  soggy  road 
as  if  she  cared  for  no  other  radiance  than  their 
gleam  of  earthy  hue,  albeit  an  evanescent  glow. 

"  Nobody  but  me  viewed  it,"  he  went  on  after  a 
moment  of  unfruitful  expectation.  "  I  tried  other 
folks,  an'  they  seen  nuthin'.  An'  by  that  I  'lowed 
it  hed  some  charge  fur  me,  some  leadin'.  Stars  hev 
been  messengers  afore  this."  He  interposed  this 
affirmation  of  precedent  for  proof.  His  senses  were 
keen.  He  had  not  failed  to  note  the  ring  of  incre 
dulity  in  Kenniston's  voice.  He  paused,  thinking 
again  of  the  wise  men  of  the  East,  and  the  blessed 
path  to  the  cradled  Christ  as  the  Star  guided  them. 
He  sighed  deeply  as  he  plucked  off  the  yellow  plumes 
of  a  wayside  spray  of  goldenrod.  The  fragments 
floated  away  on  the  stream,  and  he  drearily  lifted  his 
haggard  eyes  to  the  broad  whiteness  of  the  day  bright 
ening  over  all  the  purple  mountains  and  bronze- 


380  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

green  valleys ;  here  all  miracles  exhaled  with  the 
mists  of  the  night  and  the  evanescence  of  the  stars. 
The  atmosphere  of  the  practical,  the  prosaic,  the 
recognized  and  thrice-tried  forces  of  nature  was  par 
amount.  Naught  seemed  to  exist  that  man  in  his 
ignorant  cognoscence  had  not  explored.  But  he  had 
expected  no  miracle ;  he  had  sought  no  wonderful 
worldly  gifts  or  graces.  True,  the  will  of  God  is 
much  to  know,  but  he  had  thought  that  with  so  sig 
nal  an  intimation  a  leading  might  be  vouchsafed. 
Had  not  other  men  followed  a  star  to  Christ  ?  And 
was  there  naught  for  him,  no  little  thing  for  him 
to  do  ?  Did  that  gracious  supernal  stellular  pres 
ence  shine  on  him,  and  him  alone,  only  to  amaze,  to 
baffle,  to  dismay  him,  —  to  find  his  life  but  poorly 
furnished,  and  to  leave  it  empty  ? 

"  I  got  no  leadin'  out'n  it,"  he  said  drearily.  "  It 
jes'  disappeared  somehows.  I  dunno  ef  ez  suddint 
ez  it  kem  or  no,  bein'  ez  several  nights  war  rainy 
and  clouded  over.  It 's  gone  !  " 

Something  in  his  dreary  tone  smote  upon  Julia's 
preoccupied  faculties.  Whether  she  harbored  ran 
cor  against  him  for  Jack  Espey's  sake,  whether  she 
resented  his  criticism  of  her  father,  whether  she  re 
pelled  the  intrusion  of  the  consciousness  of  any 
other  emotion  than  the  paramount  emotion  which 
possessed  her,  and  love  crowded  out  and  trampled 
on  pity,  she  spoke  with  a  keen  fling  of  satire. 

"  Waal,  ef  yer  star  hev  petered  out,  ye  hed  bet 
ter  go  an'  get  Ad'licia  ter  hearten  ye  up  by  tellin' 
ye  ter  take  notice  how  many  stars  thar  be  lef. 
Ye  '11  be  lighted  full  well  on  occasion." 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  381 

He  flushed  at  the  taunt,  but  love  is  of  long  pa 
tience. 

"  Air  ye  mad  at  Ad'licia  ?  "  he  queried,  interested 
in  aught  that  touched  Julia. 

"  Naw  —  yes  "  She  hesitated,  interested  her 
self.  "That  is,  I  can't  holp  bein'  mad  with  the 
idjit  fur  bein'  sech  a  idjit." 

"  How  is  she  a  idjit  ?  "  demanded  Larrabee. 

"  Fur  not  marryin'  Jack  Espey  whenst  she  hed 
the  chance.  Dad  an'  Luther  would  hev  stood  off 
Ross  an'  sech  cattle,  or  gin  bond  fur  him  an'  patched 
up  things  somehow.  Ye  know  they  would.  Ef  I 
hed  been  in  her  place,  now,  an'  ef  he  hed  axed 
me"  — 

She  paused  abruptly,  with  a  sort  of  appalled 
recognition  of  the  sentiment  that  animated  her.  A 
sudden  illumination  had  broken  in  upon  her ;  her 
heart  throbbed  tumultuously  with  pleasure,  or  was 
it  pain  ?  For  she  loved  Jack  Espey ;  and  he  —  oh, 
was  it  true  that  he  loved  Adelicia  still  ?  She  hardly 
heeded  or  realized  her  self -betrayal.  She  did  not  see 
—  so  little  did  she  care  —  the  pallid  dismay,  the 
heartbreak,  on  Jasper  Larrabee's  face.  He  could 
not  deceive  himself,  —  it  was  too  patent.  He 
turned  away  with  a  bitter  sense  of  resentment, 
another  grudge  toward  Jack  Espey  for  thus  slyly 
and  completely  supplanting  him.  At  that  moment 
his  eye  fell  upon  the  jagged  rock  about  the  entrance 
of  the  Lost  Time  mine,  and  he  drew  back  in  amaze 
ment. 

"  Why,  where  does  all  this  water  come  from  ?  "  he 


382  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

exclaimed  sharply.  He  wondered  that  he  had  not 
marked  it  before,  despite  his  preoccupation.  For 
the  flow  of  the  stream  was  quadrupled,  its  momen 
tum  every  instant  greater.  Naught  could  enter 
now.  The  interior  must  be  flooded  anew.  As  he 
gazed  at  it,  wide-eyed  and  dumfounded,  a  sudden 
enlightenment  as  to  the  phenomenon  broke  upon 
him.  The  blasting  which  he  had  heard,  —  he  re 
membered  it  now  ;  doubtless  the  concussion  had 
brought  down  some  mass  of  rock  or  earth,  damming 
an  underground  current,  and  forcing  its  waters  into 
the  channel  of  the  stream  which  partially  emptied 
here,  while  the  residue  backed  up  and  filled  the 
spaces.  He  thought  that  Espey  and  the  old  man 
and  "  Tawm  "  had  possibly  made  good  their  escape 
before  it  happened  ;  but  if  not  —  and  Taft  —  He 
remembered  how  close  were  the  ghostly  voices  when 
he  had  last  heard  the  false,  cracked  tones  of  com 
mand  ring  through  the  tunnel.  Those  ill-timbered 
galleries  would  fall  to  a  certainty.  He  turned  pale 
at  the  very  thought  of  a  living  burial  in  the  den  of 
the  still-room. 

He  did  not  hesitate.  Without  a  word  he  sprang 
upon  the  log,  crossed  the  water,  and  sped  away  like 
the  wind,  leaving  Julia  gazing  in  astonishment  after 
him.  He  thought  his  worst  fears  were  realized, 
when  he  reached  the  store  of  the  Lost  Time  mine. 
His  hasty  question  elicited  from  the  children  only 
the  fact  of  the  absence  of  Taft  and  Copley.  He 
ran  down  into  the  cellar,  to  find  the  obliteration  of 
the  traces  of  the  old  door,  which  he  recognized  only 


HIS    VANISHED   STAR.  383 

as  an  added  precaution  since  his  departure.  Doubt 
less  some  other  method  of  entering  the  tunnel  had 
been  devised.  An  axe  hacking  through  the  chink 
ing  served  to  reveal  tlie  ruin  of  the  tunnel,  and  to 
admit  a  strong  and  pervasive  odor  of  gunpowder. 

Lorenzo  Taft's  plans  were  very  perfectly  calcu 
lated  and  adjusted  to  the  probabilities.  There  had 
been  no  rift  in  his  judgment.  Nowhere  could  he 
find  fault  or  flaw  in  his  reasoning.  A  lucky  chance 
had  fired  the  hotel,  and  freed  his  hands  from  the 
smirch  of  the  firebrand  and  the  possible  penalties 
of  arson.  The  moving  of  the  great  monument  of 
boundary  had  thrown  the  only  available  site  for  the 
hotel  on  the  Kenniston  tract  well  within  Cap'n 
Lucy's  lines  when  the  land  was  processioned,  and 
thus  the  summer  swallow  must  needs  alight  else 
where,  and  the  commercial  interests  of  moonshining 
would  thereby  be  promoted.  Each  detail  had  fallen 
out  exactly  as  he  had  planned.  Success  seemed  the 
essential  sequence.  Only  Espey's  frantic  fear  of 
arrest  had  precipitated  all  the  untoward  events 
which  had  advanced  parallel  after  parallel,  and 
forced  him  to  his  last  defenses.  And  these  one 
might  think  were  most  sagacious  and  adequate. 
The  foolish  drunken  boy,  whose  tongue  might  work 
mischief,  was  within  the  hour  hustled  out  of  the 
country.  Every  trace  of  the  forbidden  vocation 
was  demolished  beyond  the  possibility  of  detection. 
If  Larrabee  should  seek  revenge  by  informing,  he 
could  prove  naught,  not  even  his  own  complicity. 
It  would  seem  but  the  groundless  accusation  of 


384  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

malice.  And  Taft  had  even  taken  time  by  the  fore 
lock  by  avowing  his  former  illegal  practices,  his 
prison  record,  his  familiarity  with  the  motives  and 
manoeuvres  of  moonshiners,  and  insidiously  casting 
suspicion  on  Larrabee,  ascribing  to  him  an  ade 
quate  motive  for  moving  the  Big  Hollow  Boulder, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  law  a  felony. 

No  possible  flaw  in  his  reasoning  from  the  prem 
ises  from  which  he  argued.  He  had  guarded  him 
self  logically,  boldly,  with  great  perspicacity,  from 
enmity,  from  revenge.  It  never  for  one  moment  oc 
curred  to  him  to  devise  protection  from  good  will ! 

Kenniston  and  Ross,  even  in  the  excitement  of 
the  emergency,  and  the  tumultuous  tide  of  Larra- 
bee's  eager  explanations  when  he  suddenly  burst 
in  upon  them  as  they  sat  smoking  together  after 
breakfast,  could  but  take  heed  of  the  subtler  sub- 
current  of  significance  in  his  disclosure.  More  than 
once  they  exchanged  glances  charged  with  a  mean 
ing  deeper  than  he  wot  of. 

"  Thar  's  a  shaft,"  he  cried,  "  an  old  air-shaft, 
a-nigh  that  thar  tunnel !  Ef  ye  '11  rig  up  a  wind 
lass,  or  let  yer  men  put  me  down  with  a  rope,  I  '11 
find  Taft,  an'  the  t'others  too,  ef  they  be  thar  yit." 

"  You  '11  drown  yourself,  or  fall,  or  suffocate  with 
gas,"  Kenniston  said  tentatively,  looking  about  for 
his  hat,  and  pausing  to  cast  a  keen  glance  at  Lar- 
rabee. 

"  I  '11  resk  it  —  I  '11  resk  it  —  fur  him  and  Espey 
too  —  an'  I  dunno  what  my  mother  would  do  ef  old 
grand-daddy  Haight  war  ter  kem  ter  sech  an  e-end  J 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  385 

Oh,  I  '11  resk  it !  An'  Taf  t,  he  ain't  a  bad  man  when 
all  's  said.  Taft  's  mighty  clever  sometimes." 

"  I  think  he's  the  worst  man  I  ever  saw,"  said 
Kenniston,  as  he  flung  away  his  cigar. 

A  call  for  volunteers  and  the  offer  of  a  reward  by 
Kenniston  secured  no  companion  to  Larrabee  in  his 
venture  when  the  workmen  looked  down  into  the 
dark  shaft,  with  its  crumbling  sides,  and  sound 
of  tumbling  waters,  and  chill  dank  foul  breath. 
They  only  manifested  their  good  will  in  their  alac 
rity  in  adjusting  and  adapting  such  appliances  as 
they  could  to  insure  Larrabee's  safety  as  far  as 
possible.  Kenniston  doubted  at  the  time  whether 
he  ought  to  permit  the  jeopardy;  being  assured, 
however,  that  the  effort  would  be  made  at  all 
events,  but  without  the  advantage  of  the  heavy 
cables  and  pulleys  which  had  been  used  in  build 
ing  the  hotel,  and  which  his  compliance  offered, 
he  yielded.  Afterward  he  was  disposed  to  take 
great  credit  to  himself  for  several  devices  which 
facilitated  the  enterprise,  and  from  his  knowledge 
of  mechanical  resources  he  doubtless  insured  its  suc 
cess  ;  he  bore  the  honors  of  the  rescue,  —  which 
Larrabee  at  the  peril  of  his  life  achieved,  —  with 
all  the  unblushing  effrontery  of  an  officer  whose 
command  has  won  a  battle. 

He  was  in  a  glow  of  enthusiasm  for  the  nonce, 
and  he  continued  the  role  of  benefactor  with  more 
genuine  pleasure  than  had  lately  fallen  to  his  jaded 
susceptibility.  He  placed  eighty-seven  silver  dol 
lars  in  a  worn  leather  bag,  a  tobacco  pouch  of  one 


386  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

of  the  workmen,  to  be  given  to  old  Haight  when 
he  should  be  sufficiently  recovered,  with  the  pious 
fiction  that  his  own  money  had  been  found  in  the 
shaft.  "  This  will  keep  the  old  mole  from  burrow 
ing  again,"  he  said. 

His  abounding  good  nature  was  very  thorough 
when  once  aroused.  His  heart  was  touched  by 
Espey's  forlorn  plight,  as  he  lay  panting  on  the 
grass,  and  the  pallor  of  his  young  face  marked  by 
the  dread  of  life  that  had  just  succeeded  the  dread 
of  death. 

"  Can't  you  make  out  to  let  up  on  Espey,  some 
how  ?  "  he  said  aside  to  Rodolphus  Ross,  whose 
clumsy  pranks  of  delight  at  the  successful  outcome 
of  this  most  exciting  episode  were  like  the  extrava 
gant  joviality  of  a  gamboling  Newfoundland  dog, 
and  not  unpleasing  to  his  interlocutor  from  their 
common  bond  of  sympathy. 

"  Who  ?  Espey  ?  "  He  paused,  turning  his 
lighted  dark  eyes  on  Kenniston,  his  peaked  hat 
shading  his  elevated  eyebrows  and  surprised  face. 
"  I  ain't  hyar  arter  Espey  no  more.  I  'm  arter  the 
fire-bug,  ye  know.  That  thar  man  ez  Espey  shot 
in  Tanglefoot  Cove  hev  got  well  o'  the  pip,  or  the 
gapes,  or  whatever  the  weak-kneed  chicken  took 
from  the  bullet;  an'  this  hyar  warrant  fur  ar 
rest  hev  been  kerried  round  in  my  pocket  till  it  's 
mighty  nigh  wore  out."  He  took  the  ragged  pa 
per  from  his  pocket  and  shook  out  its  tatters, 
and  laughed  and  grimaced  in  the  very  face  of 
its  august  authority.  "  Go  on,  boy,  go  on !  I 


HIS   VANISHED   STAR.  387 

wouldn't  put  the  county  ter  charges  ter  board  ye  !  " 
he  said  to  Espey. 

A  supply  of  whiskey  was  on  hand,  for  the  osten 
sible  purpose  of  reviving  the  victims  of  the  Lost 
Time  mine,  as  they  were  drawn  up  one  by  one  from 
those  treacherous  depths,  limp  and  pallid  and 
fainting.  But  the  quantity  was  sufficient  to  en 
able  the  company  of  rescuers  subsequently  to  re 
fresh  themselves,  and  Kenniston  genially  treated 
the  crowd.  Some  of  the  men  now  and  then  began 
to  coil  up  the  ropes,  and  again  fell  to  discussing 
the  jeopardy  and  the  disastrous  possibilities ;  and 
much  hilarity  and  gratulation  prevailed  amongst 
the  group  in  the  dewy  woods,  still  filled  with  the 
slant  of  the  early  morning  sunshine,  when  Espey 
slipped  away  from  it.  His  heart  was  still  sore,  as 
if  it  had  forgotten  to  beat  except  with  a  dull  throb 
of  pain,  unrealizing  his  change  of  fortune  except 
to  sullenly  rebel  against  all  the  unnecessary  woe 
that  had  fallen  to  his  lot.  As  he  went  along  the 
road,  he  scarcely  noted  a  flower  here  and  there  on 
the  soggy  ground.  The  dash  and  fret  of  the 
stream  from  the  portal  of  the  Lost  Time  mine 
caught  his  attention.  He  marked  its  added  vol 
ume,  and,  with  his  familiarity  with  the  terrible 
subterranean  chambers,  he  could  picture  to  himself 
the  obstacles  which  lay  in  its  course,  and  which 
the  blasting  from  the  tunnel  or  the  still-room 
had  brought  down.  He  trembled  and  grew  cold 
with  the  thought  of  his  jeopardy.  He  mechan- 
ially  cursed  anew  Taft's  name,  as  he  had  done 


388  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

again  and  again  since  his  voice,  his  "  partin'  com 
pliments,"  had  been  audible  before  the  charge  in 
the  tunnel  had  been  fired.  He  shuddered  again  as 
he  recalled  the  sound  of  the  water  backing  up  ever 
higher  and  higher  through  those  black  dungeons, 
lisping  and  hissing  its  insidious  threat  through  all 
the  long  night.  How  woeful  it  had  been  —  with 
the  wild  terror  of  his  companions  to  contemplate, 
till  he  was  as  wild  with  the  terror  of  them  as  of  his 
own  fate  —  to  look  momently  to  meet  death  here, 
without  a  soul  on  earth  to  truly  care,  to  anguish 
for  him  as  he  was  anguished —  He  paused,  the 
tenor  of  his  thought  breaking  abruptly.  Had  he 
seen  it  before,  or  had  he  only  fancied  that  cardinal 
flower  lying  in  the  sun  on  the  gray  rock  by  the 
water  ?  Was  it  not  thus  that  he  should  know  that 
Julia  had  passed  and  had  thought  of  him,  —  was 
not  this  their  covenant  ?  He  doubtfully  picked  up 
the  delicate  spray  —  another ;  still,  it  might  be  an 
accident,  a  coincidence.  A  cluster  of  jewel-weeds 
lay  caught  in  the  bark  of  the  log  that  served  as 
footbridge,  and  swayed  and  glowed  in  the  sun;  it 
was  in  his  hand  when  he  reached  the  further  bank. 
As  far  as  one  might  hope  to  command  a  glimpse 
from  the  mine,  the  fragile  tokens  were  scattered. 
They  were  full  of  dew ;  their  breath  allured  him. 
They  trembled  as  with  some  shy,  timorous  thought 
in  his  trembling  hand.  The  color  had  come  into 
his  face ;  a  light  was  in  his  eyes  ;  his  tired,  troubled 
pulses  were  beating  fast,  strong,  with  a  new 
rhythm.  And  as  Julia,  still  loitering  homeward, 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  389 

her  head  bare,  her  hands  empty,  heard  a  footstep 
behind  her  and  turned,  she  saw  him,  all  her  gar 
nered  blossoms  in  his  grasp,  and  all  his  heart  in 
his  eyes. 

Kenniston,  still  elated,  but  somewhat  tired  out 
with  the  morning's  excitements,  upon  reaching 
his  quarters  among  the  workmen's  shanties,  found 
Cap'n  Lucy  there  awaiting  an  audience,  and  all 
unaware  of  the  progress  of  events  of  so  much 
moment  elsewhere  to-day.  A  rousing  "  cock-a-doo 
dle-doo  "  might  be  a  fair  summary  of  Cap'n 
Lucy's  discourse.  His  perplexities  had  vanished 
with  the  tangled  twists  of  the  rain,  and  he  set 
forth  boldly  and  with  much  detail  his  discovery  of 
the  moving  of  the  boulder,  the  corner  monument 
of  boundary,  his  anxiety  and  doubt  as  to  his  proper 
course,  and  his  realization  that  the  surveyor's  line 
had  thrown  much  land  which  he  knew  was  Kennis 
ton' s  within  his  own  domain. 

A  man  of  tact  was  Cap'n  Lucy  in  his  own  way. 
He  so  glossed  over  his  suspicions  of  Kenniston 
that  albeit  the  latter  detected  them  rather  through 
the  correlated  circumstances  than  through  the  ve 
neer  of  that  section  of  his  mind  which  it  pleased 
Cap'n  Lucy  to  present,  he  did  not  look  upon  them 
seriously.  He  was  a  stranger ;  the  old  man  was 
densely  ignorant,  and  his  experience  of  life  and 
comparative  knowledge  of  men  were  limited  in 
deed  ;  and  in  truth  it  was  apparently  impossible 
to  deduce  from  the  facts  any  other  interest  than 


390  HIS   VANISHED  STAR. 

Kenniston's  to  be  served  by  the  moving  of  the 
boulder.  Thus  he  silently  forgave  Cap'n  Lucy 
for  his  suspected  suspicions. 

And  Cap'n  Lucy  was  heartily  ashamed  of  them 
now. 

"  I  know  it  air  moved  bodaciously  —  Big  Hollow 
Boulder  —  corner  mark  —  monimint  o'  boundary ; 
an'  now  what  air  ye  an'  me  goin'  ter  do  'bout  that 
thar  dad-burned  line  what 's  gone  an'  coiled  itself 
like  the  plumb  old  Scorpion  o'  the  Pit?  " 

"Procession  the  land  again,  and  prosecute  the 
man  who  moved  the  boulder,"  said  Kenniston 
coolly. 

And  indeed  justice  had  hardily  overtaken  Lo 
renzo  Taft,  for  Kenniston's  unwonted  leniency  did 
not  hold  out  to  include  his  offending.  It  seemed 
to  him  a  very  pretty  play  of  cause  and  effect  that 
so  close  upon  the  heels  of  Taft's  accusations  of 
Larrabee,  and  his  subtle  and  successful  hoodwink 
ing  of  the  practiced  man  of  business,  who  made  a 
point  of  knowing  men,  Taft  should  be  hurrying  to 
Colbury  and  the  county  jail,  under  the  escort  of 
the  jubilant  Rodolphus  Ross  and  a  posse  of  two  or 
three  stout  fellows,  to  answer  these  very  charges  of 
arson  and  of  feloniously  moving  a  corner  monument 
of  boundary,  —  all  because  of  Larrabee's  volunta 
rily  putting  his  life  in  jeopardy  for  his  sake. 

Nevertheless,  Kenniston  listened  mildly  enough 
to  Adelicia's  earnest  intercessions  for  Taft  that 
evening,  when  he  sat  as  of  yore  with  the  family 
circle  around  Cap'n  Lucy's  fireside ;  he  seemed  to 


HIS    VANISHED  STAR.  391 

find  a  certain  fascination  in  the  incongruities  of 
her  ingenious  palliations  and  extenuations  of  his 
crime. 

"  He  mought  n't  hev  been  acquainted  with  the 
boulder  ez  a  monimint  o'  boundary,"  she  urged ; 
and  when  the  fallacy  of  this  was  demonstrated, 
"  He  mought  hev  been  sorry  an'  wanted  to  put  it 
back,  but  it  war  too  heavy  an'  the  hill  war  too 

high." 

Whereupon  Kenniston  burst  into  satiric  laugh 
ter. 

"  He 's  sorry  enough  now,  I  '11  warrant  you  ;  and 
he  '11  be  sorrier  still  before  I  'm  through  with  him." 

But  although  Adelicia's  expertness  in  excuses  for 
other  people  failed  in  this  instance,  Kenniston's 
purposes  were  frustrated  by  a  wholesale  jail  deliv 
ery  which  occurred  at  Colbury  shortly  after,  and 
Taft  was  among  the  jail-birds  who  took  flight  thence. 
He  was  never  heard  of  again  in  the  Cove.  The 
thought  of  him  at  large  and  at  enmity  served  to 
postpone  the  building  of  the  hotel  for  a  time. 
The  plans  for  a  great  public  edifice  in  Breton- 
ville  absorbed  Kenniston  in  the  immediate  future, 
and  finally  he  grew  indifferent  to  the  project  of  the 
mountain  resort,  and  it  was  definitely  abandoned. 

Larrabee  profited  by  Kenniston's  advice,  and 
availed  himself  of  the  "  amnesty  "  proffered  by  the 
government  to  moonshiners  about  that  time,  and 
thenceforward  the  still  knew  him  no  more.  The 
manufacture  of  "  brush  whiskey "  was  never  re 
sumed  at  the  Lost  Time  mine.  The  store  there  be- 


392  HIS    VANISHED   STAR. 

came  truly  a  centre  of  barter  under  the  ministra 
tions  of  old  Copley  and  the  power  behind  the 
throne,  his  niece,  Cornelia  Taft,  who  developed 
much  of  her  father's  decision  and  definiteness  and 
shrewdness  of  character  as  she  grew  older,  always 
tempered  by  Mrs.  Jiniway's  precepts,  to  which  she 
rigidly  adhered.  She  received  much  countenance, 
and  guidance  too,  in  these  early  years,  from  Ade- 
licia,  who  persisted  in  following  the  bent  of  her 
own  lenient  inclination  toward  others,  making  the 
most  of  their  good  qualities  and  light  of  their  foi 
bles.  It  was  a  certain  solace  in  the  bitter  loss  of 
other  illusions  for  which  she  was  less  charitable. 
She  never  could  be  brought  to  believe  that  Julia 
had  not  intentionally  wiled  her  lover's  heart  away 
from  her.  It  was  a  relief  when  these  strained  re 
lations  were  at  an  end,  when  Julia  and  Espey  were 
married,  in  defiance  of  Cap'n  Lucy's  opposition, 
and  had  gone  to  Tanglefoot  Cove.  Cap'n  Lucy 
argued  their  much-mooted  points  of  difference  with 
Adelicia  less  than  before,  and  deferred  in  silence  to 
her.  It  was  only  when,  in  the  winter  evenings, 
Jasper  Larrabee  was  wont  to  come  and  read  aloud, 
as  in  the  old  days,  that  Cap'n  Lucy  rose  to  his  nor 
mal  temperature  of  contradiction,  and  controverted 
sundry  hard  sayings  difficult  to  be  incorporated  in 
the  life  of  a  willful  man,  and  contemned  Jasper 
Larrabee's  learning,  and  accused  him  of  ignorantly 
perverting  the  Scriptures.  Then  it  was  that  Adeli- 
cia's  talents  of  optimism  became  transcendently  ap 
parent.  She  developed  a  wonderful  craft  of  inter- 


HIS   VANISHED  STAR.  393 

pretation.  Leaning  over  one  arm  of  Cap'n  Lucy's 
chair,  while  Jasper  Larrabee  leaned  over  the  other 
with  his  book  and  page  to  show,  —  Cap'n  Lucy, 
flustered  and  red-faced,  acrid  and  belligerent,  vo 
ciferating  between  them,  —  Adelicia  would  demon 
strate  that  this  doubtless  meant  the  other,  or  it  was 
plain  to  see  that  the  reference  was  not  general,  thus 
including  Cap'n  Lucy,  but  was  made  directly  to  the 
character  under  discussion ;  whereby  Cap'n  Lucy, 
perceiving  that  no  added  burden  of  meekness  or 
other  Christian  grace  was  to  be  laid  upon  him  as 
essential  to  salvation,  would  permit  himself  to  be 
pacified.  And  Adelicia's  gifts  grew  by  much  ex 
ercise.  Even  Cap'n  Lucy,  always  acute,  became 
reluctantly  aware  of  this,  in  some  sort.  "  Ad'licia 
hav  got  so  durned  smart  she  kin  mighty  nigh  ex 
plain  away  the  devil,"  he  fretted,  unaware  that  this 
feat  had  already  been  accomplished  by  other  and 
more  pretentious  theologians  than  Adelicia.  The 
gossips  said,  in  the  Cove,  that  it  was  in  the  process 
of  trying  to  "  '  square  '  Cap'n  Lucy  to  the  Scrip- 
tur's,  or  ter  square  the  Scriptur's  ter  Cap'n  Lucy," 
that  Adelicia  and  Jasper  fell  in  love  with  each 
other.  Certain  it  is  the  days  came  in  which  nei 
ther  had  aught  to  regret,  and  Adelicia's  optimism 
was  triumphantly  justified. 

Even  his  vanished  star  came  to  be  a  tender  mem 
ory  to  Larrabee  rather  than  a  poignant  bereave 
ment.  Sometimes  thinking  of  that  dread  descent 
into  the  crumbling  old  shaft  of  the  Lost  Time 
mine,  with  the  chill  sound  of  the  tumbling  waters 


394  HIS    VANISHED  STAR. 

below,  the  thick  foul  air  in  his  every  breath,  the 
desperate  straining  of  the  ropes  that  so  shook  his 
nerves,  the  fragments  of  rock  falling  about  his 
head,  and  his  heart  fairly  failing  him  for  fear,  he 
deemed  he  had  found  the  "  leading  "  he  had  asked 
and  had  followed  it.  For  since  he  could  do  naught 
for  Christ,  whose  humble  humanity  is  merged  in 
the  majesty  of  the  great  King  of  heaven,  he  might 
do  somewhat  for  man  whom  He  died  to  save. 

He  did  not  know  that  his  star  remained  for  a 
time  a  faint  telescopic  object  and  interested  the 
speculation  of  astronomers,  whose  outlook  from 
their  wisdom  was  also  limited  as  his  from  his  igno 
rance.  They  merely  accounted  it  one  of  those 
mysterious,  unwonted  apparitions,  a  stranger  to  all 
the  astral  hierarchy,  prettily  called  "  guest-stars  " 
in  the  ancient  Chinese  records,  and  they  knew  after 
a  time  that  the  "  Ke-sing  dissolved."  They  did  not 
dream  that  this  celestial  visitant  could  be  charged 
with  a  moral  mission  ;  for  in  all  the  discoveries  and 
advances  of  science,  what  mystic  lens  might  serve 
to  reveal  the  amaranthine  wreath  and  the  nearing 
pinion  ? 


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Murfree,  M.N. 

His  vanished  star 


PS2454 
H5 


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